My Poetry: One Last Letter

One Last Letter

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Out of this fragile modern mood
I write, my anorexic words
Have shed their weight with time
As rhyme and reason fell,
Like freezing rain, on deaf ears
But as forgotten typewriter,
Missing every fifth key
Gathers rust, I was redundant
As dust built death's foundation
Of ancient dumb metropolis
That is my weary shoulders,
My weakening tin body, no longer
Able to cope with the weight.

And so today is the day
To finish that half-written
Love letter, revisit those fragile hateful
Evenings when we retaliated
With undiluted venom,
And ill send them to your dying father
Paper clipped to the pictures
You begged me to take,
When you were young
Enough to be beautiful
When your looks could still
Cancel out your ugly heart.
Let the words exorcise
What your stone fingers found
On purple mornings
Excavating meanings, where none were,
Slamming letters back and forth,
Like a fly fisherman
With no fly and no hook;

Mornings when my words fell out
Disjointed, and broken
Splintered pieces of
What i had meant to say
But could not, words lost
In unknown afternoon bars
Cus its not the miasma of regret
Which left me gasping for air
T'was the light which illuminated
Every crack and hypocrisy
You vomited in grey tones
As you lied to yourself,
Telling a head poisoned
By glossy magazine columns,
Its better to burn out,
Forgetting no one ever died
From Prosecco rounds.