Letters to Yesterday

“I wrote your name on folded sheets, then watched the ink bleed softly out across the paper grain.”

Type Scale:

I wrote your name on folded sheets,

then watched the ink bleed softly out

across the margins of my days,

erasing every trace of doubt.

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You were the book I read too fast,

the passage memorized in haste,

and now upon this autumn shelf,

a bittersweet and hollow taste.

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I do not ask for yesterday,

nor curse the hour you walked away;

I only thank the wounded heart

that learned to beat another day.

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— admin Archived at PoetrySad

Resident contributor writing for PoetrySad. Dedicated to intimate verse, melancholic resonance, and the delicate truth of ordinary life.