Unfinished letters

They say that the pen is mightier than the sword; tonight I find that true. Sometimes I start writing letters to you that I never finish. Letters have been on my mind and my heart a lot lately because as a good friend said, they are quality time spent without the person actually being there. (Thanks Jo.) Today I wanted quality time with you. My letter began with " Hi, I miss you today." Then it began to ramble on and on and on. Paragraphs began with phrases like "somewhere between the waking and the sleeping last night I had a thought, one thats been bothering me all day."; and ended with phrases like "Yeah, I know all of you is rebuttling inside what I just said." Fears were brought to light, my own heart wondering things I shouldn't ask, loving you enough to struggle. Slowly I found the tip of my pen writing a letter I ever expected to write, spilling out words that I never expected to say. Slowly I found that somehow in my letter writing my own heart and blooe began to bleed onto the paper, and slowly I never stopped writing, slowly I never stopped bleeding. You see,sometimes its easier to write in letters you never finish or no one ever sees the things you cannot describe with words.

With trembling fingers for once I finished writing a letter, one that you'll probably never see, because the questions contained in it are to big, to large and to hard to really ask. No it doesn't ask for promises you can't keep, it asks for words that just... can't be said. They are to dark, to hard and too much.

Tonight you asked me what was on my heart and I found myself recede into the darkest places of my heart and simply shrug, jamming my hands into my pockets, taking a sip of my sake and praying that for once maybe you would forget to continue asking. Tonight my words spoke louder than my voice in a letter finished, bled over and that will die in a dresser drawer somewhere.