Meow? (scarlight) wrote in archangels,
Meow?
scarlight
archangels

A Letter To My Second.

I haven't posted here in ages, I know, and I do apologise.

But here is something I wrote a couple of days ago. It's the first thing I've written in a very long while, which is obvious at points in the piece, and I do realise that it could use some work. I do, in fact, plan on putting some revision into it, but here is what I have for now.

I breathe in.
Exhalation,
So forced.
I breathe you in.
Try as I might,
I can't let you go.

There are nights,
These nights,
Which so often
Turn into days,
When I can still feel
You. Feel.
Feel where you've been.

Those places, those
Parts of me,
Previously untainted.
What right had you?
Sixteen may be ripe,
But the choice should still
Have been mine.

You're inside me now,
Just like you always wanted,
Although not quite
How you had planned.
But that idea of you,
From that bright morning of
My sixteenth summer,
Tears through my head.

You rip through my mind and
Penetrate my skull in the way
That you never had the chance
To penetrate through me.

Perhaps I should be thankful
That it did not go so far.
Maybe I ought to find
A deity to pray to,
Get on my knees,
And count my blessings
That you did stop
When you did.

But enough was enough.
There was still damage done.
And from hundreds of miles away,
You just won't leave me now.

I remember you.
I remember that touch.
My body remembers you, too.
And on these nights,
These nights that so often
Turn into days,
I can feel you with me.

In the middle of the night,
It is sun-filled morning.
At twenty-two years,
I am sixteen again.
But the one truth,
The one absolute consistency,
Is that once again,
I am left powerless,
Without a choice.

At sixteen,
That summer morning,
I awoke to the occurrence.
At twenty-two,
This cold winter's night,
It refuses to let me sleep.
You said it was what I wanted.
You said it was what I wanted.
You said it was what I wanted.
You said. With insistence.
Did you truly believe it?

But in this brokenness,
So desperate to heal,
I have but few words
For you, old "friend."

Just know,
That in all of these years,
I never hated you.
Never wished you harm.

Until now.

And of course, I am open to suggestions for any upcoming revision.

Thank you.

Love,
Julianna Belle.
(Archangel Of Beauty.)
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic
  • 0 comments