Hello, lover mine,
It's been six months now. Leslie doesn't think you're coming back. It's taken me this long to get her to hope, and now she's lost it. Are you ever coming back, lover mine? Are you going to be in my arms again? Is this how it works, love, in its ways?
Am I meant to feel this alone, this heartbroken every time someone says your name? Every time Leslie plays a tape and I hear your voice? Am I meant to be hurting this bad? I don't know. But you'll be back, I know it! We always find each other; no matter what, right?
I bloody well hope so.
Yours,
Trying to hold on,
Garett
YOU ARE READING
Yours, Garett
PoetryWhen a man and a quill become entwined, out falls a series of laments in form of a letter.
