Dear Ezekiel;
I understand that this letter comes to you under confusing circumstances, but I have to send it to you. You need to know who you are, and I think the only way for you to do that is to know who I am. Know why I am where I am, and what I did. I know your mother will never understand. I know that you currently don't, but, I think, if I tell you this, tell you exactly what happened, at least as I can see it, that maybe you'll realize who you really are.
Josephine and Jasmine, 12 and 8, respectively, living in a house to ones Mark and Sarah French. Joe and Jas were good kids, I think. It's a little hard for me to picture them the w
My first thought each morning.
And last thought each night.
Mind caught in a windstorm,
Constantly mid-flight.
Half of me in anger,
With the other deep in sorrow,
When thinking about you,
I seek out tomorrow.
I crave quite a bit,
For your existence heals my soul,
But because I do care,
Your happiness is my goal.
Not, will I keep you.
Not even will I try.
Leave me if you will,
Regardless, I cry.
I see others around me as they write firmly on paper the things that frighten them, and while I look at the people, and the paper before them, as they smile within a photograph, I think, “But I have so many, and I have expressed so much, that I'm not sure a single sentence will help.” Because after all my fears, there is still only a single word to express it all.
My fears start: darkness, blindness, fire, isolation, loneliness. A world of incompetence; a place where I wake up one morning and am the only one capable of accomplishing anything at all. I fear the lights as they change from red to green. I fear the stripes that mark
So it shall be done …
If you allow it, all will eventually vanish. Give it time, how much I am not sure, but if you permit the stars to move, and the planets to spin, I will find myself without a single thought as to who you are, or were. If distance is wished, so may it be granted. If space is wanted, so shall I keep away, but do not forget it is you who said this is what should be done. I shall miss you for a little while more, even though I know how you feel guilt for it, but it is not just my reality that is always changing, so, too, are my memories. I will forget, you will be gone, the guilt you feel shall leave, the love I cling
I’ve decided on a world,
You might know of it.
It’s where our stories come alive!
The problem, you see,
Is that what we know of those tales,
....are lies!
Think a thought and it appear before you,
But be weary for it will happen in twisted ways unkind.
The shame of it all, is that it follows you.
...stuck forever with this idea latched behind.
So we take these two things,
Put them together just right,
And populate the world with nightmares abound!
While dreams may be real,
Fear is much stronger,
Such a shame for all those around.