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⚠Trigger Warning; the following poem contains subject matter pertaining to self-harm and suicide ⚠
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The envelope
(delivered just this morning)
splits in his attempts
to tear away its wax seal
where her very breath still wanders.
Inside,
he finds a razor blade--
upon being removed
from its paper hostel,
it glints prismatically
in the Autumn sun--
and a neatly-pressed letter
accompanied by an overwhelming
medley of scents--
parchment;
mint lip balm;
vodka;
it still smelled like her.
With butterflies rising like bile
up his throat,
he unfolds the letter,
reading over her
spidery handwriting
several times before
her words fully percolate:
Do not return to sender--
she's already dead.
Image Source:
Man washing blood from hands gif. (n.d.). [image] Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/search/killer%20gif [Accessed 1 Oct. 2018].
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