8 05 2012

I spoke too soon.

Or maybe,
It wasn’t soon enough.

I’m not quite too sure anymore…

These hundreds of letters are left hanging in the in-between.

Not sure if they were received,
But knowing they were received.

Was it a dagger to the heart?
Or a way of readjusting the focus
To be seen clearer?

They were not intended for pain,
But for healing.

These words were thought of for a long time.
They were bounced around in my brain
Thought of obsessively.
Until they formed sentence after sentence.

Letters to
Words to
Sentences to

Anger to
Acceptance to
Forgiveness to
Compassion to

I wish I knew the truth.
Your intentions.

I wish you knew my intentions.
And the truth.

I suppose we may never know.

Or will we?




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