The Dead Letters

to whom it may concern:

not even gonna call you by your name

you ain’t there no more

left on the floor

with the piss and vomit

a shell of what you once were

what possessed you to listen

to your mother after forty-two years

when in two hours you would have been mine?

if you had just lain down

slept sound

forever

you pray for me now, don’t you?

when you’re alone and the pain is unbearable

don’t want to explain

why your eyes are either tear-filled

or unresponsive

skin corpse cold constantly

was ready to take you then

don’t want you now

somehow it is more amusing

to watch you struggle

Love,

Death

***

Dear Death:

You’re right, there are times I wanted to know you

prayed for your presence

murmured your name monotonously in my sleep

chanting, channeling challenging

my pleas deafened by denial

you know I don’t do well with pain

don’t own a gun

too scared of heights to jump off a bridge

straight into the pits of hell

even when I fell my parts were not there

lost and fragmented , began searching for me

found pieces in hidden chakras

leading to paths of healing

making being in my present more pleasant

followed by a fruitful future

Nothing but my best,

Michele