First place winner: Heart strings by blueskiessuck

Letters to my ex Challenge 

1.

-Murk in tomorrow's step, every hope besmirched in fear.

What am I supposed to do with a piece of paper after all, Joe?

-Raising the dead conscience, Lorna.

To remind people that tomorrow is too late for heaven.

It will always be late; hope burned all the truths.

As if hope is the liar in this hell...

~Last call of Lorna and Joe.~

2.

Joe...

You did a good thing walking away.

After a while, I would be the one running with the guilt glued on my back.

You did a good thing when u left.

We both did.

~madly crying...Lorna~

3.

I am lost, Joe.

In thousands of laughing melodies I am lost with eyes that no longer see. On thousands of roads with shattered destinations, I am alone.

I am sorrowful, full of sadness I glue in your conscience, because lately my shoulders have started to hurt me carrying your pain.

I live a parasitic life and dress everything with cruelty.

I forget to love and I speak at a low slant nowadays.

Gulp a couple of bottles every night, and when life goes downhill, I set bloody horizons on my body.

Joe, I am losing myself.

Do you even read these?

4.

I thought it would be easy.

I would draw you in with a few strings, would sing you in a few writings to send you on your way...absent.

I thought it would be really easy, but I am running out of words and my voice has gone hoarse from all the crying.

~Please answer...

Lorna.~

5.

Now that you left, a tangle is stuck in my throat, and I am always looking in the old trails to know if you are still breathing somewhere.

In our story, I know that I am the negative character dressed in purity, and you remain the same with that beautiful soul you strongly hide in the darkness above the stars.

I have started to erase the smile from the small things, guilty of your vanishing one.

And in the end, I get mad and wait for all these feelings to come back...from you.

~Unsent letter of Joe.~

6.

Damn how much pain I'm putting in your figure...

How hard it is trying to rip the memories, to throw them away, anywhere away from me.

I abhor you because I didn't love you back then, and I still do not...

And a lot of other lies I tell myself, after I am done wiping the tears.

~Unsent note of Lorna~

7.

In my thorax I still keep all your love letters, which no longer drip honey. I grip them with longing, put them under the headrest and stoop into my bed with burned thoughts.

Smouldered the scent of letters with forgetfulness, my dear.

Smouldered the stained bench in which bashfully I touched your hands, withdrawing that piece of paper.

I smouldered the red dot dress, that took your savour while in tight hugs.

They all burn in me my dear, and I burn with hot tears your only left letters.

Yours,

Lorna.

8.

Do you remember how I found you?

Silent, sitting in ghost tombstone, weeping in places l madly heard the singing song.

I remember giving you my cold hand and wrapping you in healer hug.

Do you remember how u shivered? You were so afeard of being fine and with that fear you surprisingly warmed me, with that fear you put fires on my walls and with that fire you smouldered me.

Do you remember how you got lost?

I talked to you in nonsense about the emptiness and your mind flew in sins, and right than you pushed me.

Do you remember how you loved me?

A little to little that was so much for a big nothing.

I remember all Joe.

Oh, how much I wish I could bury some...

~Still mad.

Lorna.~

9.

Do you know why people love seeing sad movies, Joe, or why they weep over books every once in a while?

Because crying for a lost love, even if not yours, makes you yearn for that love so much you wouldn't want to let it go. But, after you've lived it, and maybe after your girl gets raped while you get stoned watching some match and you lose her for real, but not your love for her, those movies and books will become burning wounds.

Oh, don't look at the letter like that, darling!

Besides, the oddest reason is the need to feel terrible. Us humans, Joe, have this unexplained tendency of making ourselves miserable, and once achieved justify it with a healthy mentality or, even worse, washed eyes.

We are so pathetic, and always searching for excuses.

I can hear your voice saying how strange this letter is.

Exactly like that stoned face. We do see things we don't want to admit.

~A letter to remind you how heavy my breath is.~

10.

I am not mad at her Joe. Sometimes I envy her...envied her, but when you take decisions of vagueness, it's surprisingly eldritch the speed it takes.

Now I read you and I don't lose my breath, like I used to when you showed your second face.

Now I read your deadly ghost and my chest doesn't burn.

I don't have dreams anymore. I burn the reality in disgust and never go back to memories.

And if I'm empty so what?

11.

With you Joe, l loved myself. Maybe that why I didn't want to leave. With you Joe, I learned how beautiful was every piece of my broken soul. Learned that, they would not come together anymore, but I still could love them shattered as they were. Learned to smile on the dirty dark corners...the famous corners with stinky smell.

Learned how the thorax burn, how suadade kills, where I belong, how much I was worth, who I wanted to be, that I was leaving in illusions, how much I would miss you when gone, that the moon had two faces.

Now that I am alone, in someone's arms but totally alone, things have changed.

They are the same as they were when you were happy. Are you still?

12.

I had promised myself that I would not pour anymore sadness on the writings for you. Would let you burn in the shadows of my soul without taining yourself with you. Promised my shattered self that one day would stop the pain of the games and lies and let you fade like that.

But, Damn all the promises that break when I hear your name and all those tears that cover all the traded happiness.

My respiration is getting heavier and the arrows of trust and love are smashed...

I was thinking how proud all those winning soul games made you, and how much time left do you have to become a devil.

13.

When I buried her Lorna,

I feared my own shadow, that never gave up scaring me.

I was afraid to be in hugs.

Always joking because was too tired from crying.

Talked too much so my shadow wouldn't scream.

I was searching for new trails, ways of killing you too, and when I found myself in loop I crouched in emptiness.

If you saw me how I ran away from love, you would be so proud, how alike we are.

14.

I had a stranger in front of me. His rough hand caressed the road of tears, that I did not want to let go. His eyes stared at my shivering lips.

An afternoon ago, I remember biting them until they bled, unconsciously.

I felt his heavy breath on my shoulder. Every word that touched my skin erased with kisses.

My hand rallied into the sheet. I wanted to scream. I've been screaming my whole life, and nobody cared for the broken voice, searching for help in her own strange ways. My jaw was tight, and a blazing pain was coming out from my chest.

My eyes went blind in forlorn, seeing the white dress fall from my body

A white dream lay under my feet

Two tears impatiently slipped and hid in it. They crouched in the only white left.

In the blinding light appeared a vision, an image that looked like me submerged in dirt with one hand in the air, silently screaming 'Help!'

Then I saw his face when he clashed my back with withered rose petals. His eyes were locked in mine, while his lips touched every tremble of my feet. He kept climbing, his lips replaced with teeth and tongue.

The vision was gone. There was no girl searching for help anymore. The vision was covered like our trails, Joe.

Every piece of happiness crumbled when his body heavily rested on me. That hot, irregular breath erased you, and it killed me.

Another letter that you won't read, Joe. Another painful story in the empire of sorrow. Just another story, not the first one of raping, Joe.

I am too eradicated to tell you that I am still in love with you.

15.

When I gave you our first goodbye, the one with lots of angry cries and a few words that shot like arrows, I felt relieved.

It was the first drol of summer rain on the ground. A small touch of freshness.

So saturated with you, always waiting for you to hurt me, like the scenarios in my head. I had so much pain on my shoulders, always waiting for that goodbye with your dead voice and eyes full of fear.

Later I was asked if I ever loved you. Said yes. Just wanted to hurt you.

Realised I really loved you behind time. Since I missed the sound of your smile waking me up.Your hands touching my cheeks.Your lips that knew how to taste me. Since when you became a part of my routine.

After the second goodbye. The grand silent goodbye, realised that I always loved you and never dared to tell you because I knew how much of an "I love you" would kill.

So, if you really want to know if I love you, or how much I do love you, write me a lukewarm letter! Ask me how I am! I will desperately write how tired I am pretending that I have forgotten you.

I will hurt you.

It's just a letter of a forgotten person, taken by the diary of the dark days. Don't be afraid to read it.

Lorna.

16.

I am strolling with the morning wind that secretly breaks into the window, touches you in the face but not waking you.

I am there with you, when you walk with heavy steps and chained soul, softly caressing and giving warmth.

With you, when you cry in guilt on the white tombstone, your scarred hands bleeding, while I wore the danving brown leaves.

With you when you put your shoulder on her name and whisper how much you love her.

I am with the wind, with you, without myself...

I have nothing else to say Joe.

17.

Maybe I was the one using you, because crouching on your arms was what I needed.

Maybe it was the selfishness that embraced me, and in tears I told you not to go.

Meanwhile now...in all this disarray, you are the best worst thing I never touched.

I hate you, Joe!

18.

Muzzling, minimising pain.

Muzzling, empty words of anger.

I am suffering Joe.

The whole world is against me and every mirth is dresses in black.

I am calling Joe.

The world doesn't like my voice.

Oh Joe, I should corrode this body with my nails to show you how many truths I have distorted.

But you are no where Joe...

You never were my dear.

19.

We need to talk Joe.

To tell you what is the truth of all those letrees stained in moss.

I need to separate the delusions from happenings.

I don't want to be mad anymore.

Oh, you should see how our silence left me.

What nightmares hount me and how I cry in sleep Joe.

But, I don't want you to feel pity for me.

I don't want you back either. (Proud-foothold the start of both us.)

We need to talk Joe, I need myself back.

So much silence for nothing.

How do you make it?

~I will always be waiting for you under the moonlight, like that time when you couldn't take your eyes off her, so pain can be even bigger.~

20.

Here I am, aswering all you numerous letters, so consecutive ones, thanking (not ironic, just tired).

How do you stay like that on the ground dear girl?

Why do you dress yourself with such madness?

You can't love me. With what other lie do I have to dash you against so you can let me go? How should I send back your letters? Crumbled or ashes?

The chariot keeps walking, lifting up the dust. (A few "p" lost their curve by some dust grain in the eye.)

I miss you Lor. You didn't knew how to walk away.

But I can't hold that selfishness to keep you chained.

Air in here is so solid Lor, every tree shadow we leave behind burns. The birds chirp sounds dead, while the clowds as a reminder lunch only grey.

Don't write me anymore!

Hugging you as always, Joe.

21.

Oh, Joe!

Don't write me anymore perfidious letters. I have read what you held in the boxes that you putet inside the house, first day you came.

What kind of a fire they held, that burned you for so long?

I know you miss the non dimmed Lorna. But, now you have no idea in who I have become. (You should have bothered to read me in the strings I wrote you.)

More selfish became when you left with the wind and stole my silence.

So angry with me?

With hate you flounder me on the ground, when you find the coldness to leave?

The air has been solid when you were near me and list the free spots in your train. Now the air is consumed.

Where ever I put my eyes, I only see blue horizons in my wrists.

I can't forgive you Joe.

I will write you again...

22.

I dreamt about you last night.

You were wearing the red polka dot dress which was shaking with the wind.

Your hands were on your forehead shading your eyes against the sun.

Your hair flowing unduly while your laugh could be heard from where you were.

I was standing on the warm rock of the autumn sun.

Lost in days when I could touch your skin.

Than I found myself in a ship.

A letter was in my hands.

"Remember me in kisses when the ship is gone. Remember the smiles I hide in your chest. I have glued some 'I love you' under your skin. You will find me there."

A scream was enough to wake me up.

I was still on the ship...

Joe.

23.

Lor I saw you today. I was smoking a cigarette on the rocks near the cave, when for the first time I counted your birthmarks on your shoulder, when l saw you running with your shoes on the sand.

Your golden hair danced with the wind, the sand spoke in silence...but I could hear the scream.

You were singing a sad song and for a brief I though you were mad. I no longer could see your tears. I got up on my feet, called you with my hoarse voice while the fear pound my chest.

Would it be worthy to run after a stranger, to find you?

Don't write me anymore.

Joe.

24.

While I was making small circles on my skin with my fingers on a dark night, I felt like my soul dived in her (Lorna's) skin. She was stretched on the steamy yard with the sneaky sun, whom after kissing the leaves of the cherry tree, made love in her forehead. She was mumbling something about a letter for someone named Joe, with no longing on her pale face.

"Letters with nothing left to be said, are so blank, filled with tears of fear or relief. The stone on my shoulder does not fall if I don't go to sleep my dear. The death bed it's not even comfortable and in my last thoughts I hope to not get followed (not only by you).

The circles on my skin didn't stop with Lori's breath. But after all, she did kept that suicidal smile under her tears.