Letters to You

my pen tears the blue lines through a wet spot

where my pain seeped out of me

my hand and heart ache as I etch these thoughts

onto the unsuspecting paper

with its bits hanging on the edge

where I couldn't tear it quite right

another screw up

I'm intimately acquainted with this feeling

just a little less than perfect, always coming up short

I try to explain it to you

without sounding so pathetic

but who knows how you'll read it

who knows if you'll see the stains of my regret

the hole left by my authenticity

I know you'll read the words

but will you see them?

years of misunderstandings to make known

on eight and a half by eleven inches of a former tree

a seemingly impossible feat

yet I confidently pour myself into this envelope

and pray for the best despite logic and reason

my tattered pages don't know how to do anything else