I wrote a letter just to see
If words looked truer when set free
On paper rather than the head
Where half of everything feels dead
Before it ever reaches sound.
I wrote it slow.
I crossed lines out.
I put in things I meant at first
Then took them back for fear or doubt.
I said too much.
I said too little.
I sounded plain.
I sounded false.
I tried to keep my heart from showing
Then wrote straight through it, all at once.
The stamp sat ready on the desk.
The envelope was neat and shut.
I held the thing for half a week
Then tore it cleanly through the middle.
Some truths are hard enough to have.
Harder still to hand to someone else.