Brink of Blasphemy

c a t a s t r o p h e

I have unfinished letters piling up
Threatening to fade.

Some years old, nearly kept in envelopes,
bearing weight of your address,
Ready to extricate itself off my captivity
Yet I forbid them freedom.

I watch them still
While they call me out on my cowardice.

I grip them tight, lock them up in my suitcases and start a new again.

Just like that my hands once again ache to touch the pen and write more.

You were so much more than a distraction to me.