the phone lines between here and there have been cut and the letters i mailed to you have all been returned to me with big red letters stamped on the front RETURN TO SENDER... so i pack them in a shoebox along with your toothbrush, comb, lipstick cases and mascara tubes, fingernail polish and the little twist ties from empty bread bags you wouldn't let me throw away and of course, the only picture of you i still have, dogeared, crinkled and cracked... i put the shoe box in the closet, top shelf, way in the back, cover it with an old blanket and shut the door...Birth sign: Libra
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by tattooedbeatmessiah.