The Letter

The Letter

We regret to inform you that

we don’t want you.

We regret to inform you that

you are average.

The letter wilts in my hands

like a dying flower.

I had such hope, such expectation

of a new beginning.

We regret to inform you that

you are not brilliant.

We regret to inform you that

you are not enough.

My stomach churns and

my face burns with embarrassment.

Who was I to think

that I had a chance?

We regret to inform you that

you overreached.

We regret to inform you that

you overestimated yourself.

I withdraw into myself and

darkness wraps around me.

I shrink and I become

less.

We regret to inform you that

this is your place in the world.

We regret to inform you that

this is all you will ever be.