If I sent a letter to myself,
i wonder what it would say.
Would it write of magical love affairs?, or of hopeful thoughts I pray?
Dare I alter my truth of life?
unburden this heavy weight? Or will admitting my confessions, mean sin shall seal my fate?
For as each word is written,
and paragraphs collide.
Epiphanies are revealing,
secrets I did hide.
Still my letter shows,
intentions crystal clear.
The truth has set me free,
there's nothing left to fear.
I'm writing of my future,
no chapters from my past.
Sincerely I believe,
this happiness will last.
From deep within these lines,
my heart is nearly healed.
For here my stories written,
and ready to be sealed.
© Reba Mounce