A Letter to Myself

By Joshua Lefort

Ink to paper I lay down,

A heaviness at the centre of my world,

I breathe out.

To you, I admit that after all,

I know not what came to mind,

Died within and festered at my lips.

With big smiles and open arms,

So much I’ve taken,

But little given,

Not much I’ve left behind.

Many times, I looked up,

But couldn’t find where.

Thought back, but couldn’t remember when.

Asked, but couldn’t find who.

In sand, I sat on a throne,

And in the crypts of darkness,

Like a hypocrite,

I sought to claim sight.

I even dared challenge the sun

’Til I was struck down,

Forced to walk amongst His own.

Rich cream, soft wisps,

And the warmth of a tender embrace.

A pink haze and a burning breath

Set ablaze a nurturing force

That grows within reach of silence.

In the buzzing of your absence,

A boy you’ve left to die,

And in the blessings of His presence,

A man he has become.

I’ve wept, knelt, and atoned before my own.

A spectacle we’ve made,

And so a game we shall play.

That is, the “me” you see,

And the “I” that is to be.

Thanks to you, I’ve set him free,

For he has been patiently

Waiting to reclaim himself,

Once he rid himself of me.

In truth, I don’t have much left to say,

But much more to feel,

For I, me, and we

Shall be leaving

You.

By Joshua Lefort