Letters to the Dead
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If words can travel to you... |
Dear Love,
I don’t know why I am writing this. It feels like writing to
the void. Perhaps the envelope shall never be opened. Perhaps my words shall
never be read, never be replied. My questions shall never be answered, and my
feelings shall just occupy the emptiness left behind.
I don’t know if you even exist. I don’t know what became of
the war, what devastation it caused. I don’t know what became of the thousands
of soldiers; how many lives were lost, and if anyone at all escaped that fate. And
it’s killing me. It’s eating me inside out.
Perhaps I’ll tear this up. I don’t know what more to write.
Even the ink is blurred with my tears. No, I didn't cry, till today. How am I,
you ask? I’m living, eating and still breathing. I wonder how. I wonder why.
How are you, if you are still there somewhere? And if you are not, then how’s
oblivion? Should I join you?
I don’t want this to be a letter to your grave.
Return if possible.
Yours forever,
…
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