There are no more letters to write.
Refusing to write for a receiver with inauthentic eyes, the well ran dry.
Not interested in seeking to understand, as exhaustion rears its ugly head.
A love once alive now fizzled…too calloused to bleed.
Formerly a desire to be a hope in a future creed.
Abandoned dreams weaved upon a scenery of tear built cities.
Ah, wasted investments. Many receipts, I have plenty.
I didn’t ask to drink from a well of dreams that would never quench my passion.
A duct taped heart awaiting the next snatching of the healthy love I possess.
Realization is there is no point to even confess.
Swallowed whole and all that is left
Purgatory prayers upon the salted road deeply rooted
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