My dearest,
I’m not sure what you mean by “you have changed.”
Before you, I was unhappy, exhausted with living,
Before you, I was cruel, for nothing made me happy,
Before you, I was contemptuous, fear calloused into cruelty,
Before you, I was alone and afraid, and so hid it with contempt.
Before you, I welcomed death, because then I wouldn’t be alone.
But for you to be gone because “I have changed”
What could that mean?
Am I more attractive broken, like a puzzle to be formed?
How strange that After so resembles Before,
Like a reset button.
Or a letter never sent.
Discarded Recollections 
Damn. Feeling this. Hard hitting poem ❤
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The finest inspiration should, in some way, destroy you as a person, leaving behind someone a little more and a little less of who you were before. Thank you for the comment, I was delighted to see it.
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Powerful words. I can relate to unsent letters and probably words i should have stopped myself from blurting out x
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It’s one thing to stop oneself from saying something and another to not have the opportunity at all. But it’s relatable, yes? There’s a strange power in putting into words those things we think in crippling silence.
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