Letters to No One (James Rustic)

Filled with delirious thoughts, my weary mind begins to wander,
Harkening back to the days of old, when life was so much kinder.
When, even for the sparse moments when we were not together,
Our fleeting fancies would be immersed only in images of the other.

Recoiling from these ghosts, my mind questions if it can ever again trust
A friendship once as solid as concrete, that has now withered into dust,
As my deteriorating soul, tormented by the past, has already begun
To yearn for the East, with the shimmer and promise of a new rising sun.

But why must I desire appearing in this unholy, unwelcoming place,
Knowing that I will be confronted by the sight of your wretched face.
For there is no reason for us to speak when there is nothing to discuss
As it is apparent that nothing but angst and disgust exist now between us.

With one letter and little words of praise, maybe things could change
And we would mend the emotions that have been unraveled and undone,
But until my dampened soul is able to muster that amount of courage
I shall store these letters deep within, to be embraced by no one.