If you open my desk drawer you will find one letter from every week since you’ve left me.I...

If you open my desk drawer
you will find one letter from
every week since you’ve left me.
I don’t know why I keep writing
to you. There is a piece of me
that hopes you might be able
to feel my words against the parts
of your body that I have touched,
the parts that are polluted forever.

I don’t know why I haven’t
sent them to you yet. Every letter
is a confession, another fragment
of evidence to why it was
that I could not be strong enough
for the both of us. For why I could
never just give you the truth
of my emotions instead of hiding
them beneath layers of neglect.