O dearest of mine,
I know we don’t see eye to eye, but in my defense it’s hard to spy
you when we’re oceans apart.
This faint heart beats hard watching the stars above the sea,
Riding this heart rate to Mars as the pressure of not having you
Around scars it with hope of a day where we’d be reunited.
But body and mind fight daily to climb the hills of this island.
Toiling through the anxiety I’ve found shelter and meal,
The appeal of survival as a means to the end of us;
Not that we’d end but in the end us will still be.
But this survival has been spelling the end.
E, everyday as the curves of the swirls grow more enticing,
The temptation of the island’s fruit reminding me of a sweetness
That I reminisce about;
N, the nagging at my heart strings every time the birds sing our song;
They flock together and I’m left to be without the right pair;
Just a sole survivor in my imaginations that salvation could come to us;
And the idea that Mrs. Right is still out there.
I shoo a pesky crab that tried to snap at my ankle.
D: the Day I decide to give up. I can’t say how far survival has gotten
But its hard to focus on what is hoped for when the realities of life demand my attention.
I can’t begin to mention how much I’ve fought to not call this island home;
I’ve heard that home is where your heart is, and I refuse to plant my flag
Anywhere within this island because it’s not where I want to be;
I’ve had tears, fear and hopelessness for company,
And they haven’t been the best friends but they’ve helped me feel comfy,
Growing accustomed to hard floors and wet feet.
I’d much rather wish to adorn this paper with the gems of your beauty
But it’s grown faint and I only see in the mirror dimly;
I only wish to speak the truth.
The truth is I’m alone; You’re out there as my home
and I’m here as the prodigal; longing to depart
With this parchment on the journey to your dorms.
That’s where home is to me.
The epitome of sanctity, encased within the body
Life breathed into and alas it became living.
Away from the spice of this isle
That extends for miles beyond my reach.
It’s sweetness leaves me bitter
As it quicker serves as anchor than propeller
And so with urgency I deploy this letter.
My prayer is it is delivered,
just as the first within this bottle as my messenger.
Signed, sealed, and administered.
As may this second find you and the first together.
I still love you.

message-in-a-bottle-wallpaper-1008x380-397

 

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One thought on “Castaway: The Second Epistle

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