I’ve sealed many letters that never set sail in the mailbox

They were my words unread

Feelings shed onto paper unfiltered from hate and overdosed in pride

I had nothing to hide from these people but everything to prove

I was always taught numbers don’t lie.

But people do

This world is not a calculator

Opinions leaking into the paper formulated with disgust and looking like betrayal

It’s a shame letters sometimes get lost in words and words get all dressed up in sentences but then have nowhere to go

What a waste of a good outfit

Words fill the gap in between the blue train tracks on the paper

Carrying a load of stale stomachs, a car full of salty tears that taste perfect with the sweet smell of friendships coming to a end in the next car over

Some sounds are meant to never be heard

The sound of lost hope, the whisper of disappointment, and the yell of frustration

My paper is all too familiar with these conversations

The envelope will embrace them but they will never be read

Unsent letters feel good to get out

And even better to throw away


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