by B.C. Licht
Dear me
Or at least the me that I thought was once ideal.
I must say, we haven’t spoken in a while.
I’ve kept you close in longing glances,
staring at odd reflective romances,
and I’ll say you haven’t been half as kind to me.
It’s hard to keep up with the ghost of someone
who’s never really there.
It’s hard to measure up to clouds I couldn’t reach
from way down here,
and it’s difficult to write this to you
now that I am willing.
Just so you know,
no hard feelings…
but this is goodbye.
I’m better off not knowing how far the road
stretches between you and me.
Life’s much kinder, taking expectation
and throwing it to the sea.
I’ve fed fish, and sharks and ocean spaces,
with perfect bodies and social graces,
and that way your sneeze doesn’t command a
room that’s never ready for my nose.
I suppose,
this is the end
of us being friends.
It’s funny, how you're not here and I’m all by
myself.
Is this how you feel when you realize you’ve
become your own ideal self.
I sure do hope
some other me
doesn’t write a letter
addressed to the
hopes and longings that I wear
as common as my shirts or hair
saying that I’m robbing them of kindness.
When they look at mirrors that don’t show them
their ideal self.
I hope they find more beauty
than my own face will allow.
I hope they build a life outside the walls I built
between back there and now.
And I hope they write a letter
better than this one
I wrote to you!
But for now,
I guess this is goodbye.
Sincerely my…
new ideal self.
***
B.C. Licht has lived most of her life in Florida. She’s married to her beautiful wife, who has loved and supported her throughout her writing career. B.C. Licht is the author of Legends of Galhalla: A Spark in Fate’s Hand.
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