Sunday 25 January 2015

the book

the book
it sits on my lap
yet i cant open it
i cant go there

its the last
a manuscript of family
like receiving a last letter
after you know the sender has died

if i don't
if i stop myself
there will always be the unknown
but it will be findable,  tangible

yet if i read
if i absorb the words into my own hearts blood
i will never forget,
will never go back

i will know all there is to know
i will be able to relive,
but never again live

is it worth it?
am i strong enough
to fully love
to fully know
to fully leave behind.





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