Emily

I loved her inside letters, I tucked
my hearts and my organs inside of her
messy scrawl, her heartache, her doodles
of lost girls, of black cats, of razors and
pills. I sealed myself, my fate, I sent it to her:

Three stamps, and a kiss, always
with pearl-pink lip gloss. It would fade in the mail,
traveling 5000  miles  
to her door, but I did not
care and the doves inside

my chest dared to break out.

I loved her inside letters,
I tucked her pain inside my art.
I filled my envelopes
with sadness, pieces of my hair,
my strange secrets,

my broken stories.