the dead letters

the dead letters

to whom it may concern:

not even gonna call you by your name
you ain’t there no more
left on the floor
with the piss and vomit
a shell of what you once were
what possessed you to listen
to your mother after forty-two years
when in two hours you would have been mine?
if you had just lain down
slept sound
you pray for me now, don’t you?
when you’re alone and the pain is unbearable
don’t want to explain
why your eyes are either tear-filled
or unresponsive
skin corpse cold constantly
was ready to take you then
don’t want you now
somehow it is more amusing
to watch you struggle


dear death:
you’re right, there are times i wanted to know you
prayed for your presence
murmured your name monotonously in my sleep
chanting, channeling challenging
my pleas deafened by denial
you know i don’t do well with pain
don’t own a gun
too scared of heights to jump off a bridge
straight into the pits of hell
even when i fell, my parts were not there
lost and fragmented , began searching for me
found pieces in hidden chakras
leading to paths of healing
making being in my present more pleasant
followed by a fruitful future

nothing but my best,

ps. i am still more scared of my mother than of you

© michele mitchell, 2013

Prompt provided by: Perry Visionpoet Divirgilio
Artistic Director at Philly Youth Poetry Movement (PYPM) and Executive Director at Spoken Soul 215

Photo Credit: Lucifer Death

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