Love Letters to Nowhere

Once, I used to write letters

to the people I lost, to the

people who used to love me but

now... don’t.

Here are a few:

Dear Liz,

I fucking hate you!

You probably know this by now,

since, you know, you really fucked

me up in the head when I was, what,

ten? You’re the reason I’m like this!

You’re the reason I tried to commit

suicide, you’re the reason I WANT to

fucking die, all because of my FUCKING

MOM!

I know you’ve started a new family, and

just had a son, even though you said you

had ovarian cancer and had to get all

of that taken out, claiming you’ve been

“Gifted by God!”. One day, your family

is going to learn the truth of what you did to me,

and they’ll realize what a piece of walking dog

shit you are!

Dear Mary,

I miss you, grandma.

You were a better mom than

Liz was, since you really cared,

and I know you were sick, but

I wish you were at least here

for another few years, and I wish

you could’ve quit smoking cigarettes

when I last saw you.

There isn’t a heaven but...I hope,

wherever you are now, it’s better there

than it was here.

Dear Jane,

I...I don’t know what to say.

I could pour out a whole book

about us, but I know you wouldn’t

have wanted that. You were...what’s

the word? You were...very pessimistic,

to say the least, as am I, and now…

now that you’re gone, now that my little

black ray of sunshine is gone...I don’t know

what to do…

Should I join you?

Should I stay here?

Should I just roll over and hug the spot where

you would’ve been lying next to me every night,

if we made it?

Should I cry into the shirt you gave me?

Or should I be moving on, since...you know…

you would’ve wanted that?

I want to kiss you one more time…

I want to hug you and cuddle one more time…

I want you to fill me up with that warm feeling

you gave me whenever we sat in front of the TV,

watching movies all night…

I want you to come back…

Why did you want this?

People say I should move on but I just can’t.

I...I just can’t…

Not without you…

Here I am, growing more and more

despondent and disconsolate…

without you...

...I love you, Jane...

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