rage

Dear Sam,

You were the freedom I yearned for while laying in a cage. I was the wandering

spirit and you were the wrong target in which I landed upon. You always held the

stars as I longed for the moon, but not the bright stars that hold my memories.

Instead, the kind that go through my body and over my head.

You held the shape of my hand as I pointed to the sky. 

You pushed the dirt over the edge when the earth awoke with rage.

You always kept me safe from external forces, yet I still woke up with bruises. 

You were certain.

You formed the pebbles that landed on my sky.

You caught the rain as it dropped from my eyes.

You were beautiful but I saw so much ugly in you.

I don't love you. I only reached for a love that I wanted. But you 

abandoned that before I accepted you.

I didn't know.

I still don't.

But who said the night was for sleeping?

                                                                     With bitter love,

                                                                                             Viola