Words Unspoken

Dear Sherry,

 

Three years have passed since the last we spoke. It had not fared well for either of us; yet, choosing now to break the silence, I am hoping for a more pleasurable outcome this time around, but I remain highly doubtful of any change, let alone a response.

 

So today I write this letter to you, with the intensive purpose of recalling all the times you have hurt me. Times in which you drug the essence of my being across the dirt and broke me down; forever leaving behind the deepest of wounds that have eventually turned into scars; although slowly fading, they never truly diminish. Recalling the times I felt battered and bruised, all hoping you would gain even the slightest understanding of my rage and sorrow that have been tormenting me for years.

 

I sit here, writing you this letter in the home you have never seen, across from my children you have never visited, all because of one day, one hate filled argument that forever sealed your lips. Choosing now to be eternally silent, yet still endlessly deafening. Of course, I am still angry from the events of that day, the day you forsake me, tossing me aside as if our time together meant so little.  And like always, you get the last laugh, humored by your last words. Last words etched in stone with none ever to follow.

 

I have been sitting here for a few hours now, trying to recall all the pain you inflicted, full of incredible anger and sorrow. Anger because even though I try so hard to recollect those moments in time, even digging into the furthest reaches of my mind, I find that I am unable to recall anything worth mentioning. Sorrow because no matter how hard I try to express my pain, I find myself focusing more on what I should have said three years ago. I should have said nothing more to you then three little words. Three little words so strong, so powerful they hardly left my lips. Three little words that may have prevented your untimely death. And lastly, regret because instead of this long, drawn out letter, I should have simply wrote:

 

Dear mom,

 

I love you.

 

Until we meet again,

Aaron

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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