Dear Whoever,

Dear Whoever,

         I'm doing fine.



I write the words "I'm doing fine."
But the words feel naked on the line

I put my pen down and start to cry
I wonder why I would even try

I paint this picture upon this page
But the words are fading as they age

I wish I could make everyone see
The wretched creature inside of me

But the words are trapped so incredibly tight
I'm finding it much harder to win this fight

I feel so cold and alone
I didn't know I was so accident prone

Maybe tomorrow the words won't feel so naked
And maybe tomorrow I won't have to say this

I just hope that I'll feel better
And maybe tomorrow I'll finish this letter.


          November 2, 2013