One last letter to someone who will never read it
One last letter because I promised, and this one is easy to keep. I have been reading a book about the land the birthed me and that I will be leaving soon. I wish the land had swallowed me whole, put me back inside its womb so that I never had to leave. I am scared. I am scared of how the colour of the soil here will still show on my skin and speak for me before I can speak for myself, I who like to be invisible. I am leaving this land to escape it but I know I will end up carrying it with me everywhere. I am scared and you are the only one I can tell because you will never know this fear, you who have lived everywhere and never had a land to call your own. You were born to your father and your mother, and nothing else.
It's 4 in the morning and I can't sleep and I am writing to you, you who will never read it. You who will always be a dream, one that I will always look back on with love and pity and forgiveness, because you never had the power to hurt me. You exist in broken pieces of a glass that was once whole and even with all my make-believe I can't put the pieces together. I hope you will forgive me for trying. I hope you forgive yourself. That is all. Goodbye.
