Writing epistles is harder than I thought it would be. So far, I feel like I’m ending up with a really bad ‘artist’s rendering’…

There’s an old photo on your wall
of a diner somewhere on the coast
No place you’ve ever been—
a gas station probably stands there now

There’s a picture of you
on the corner of your desk
I don’t know how old it is
but Nefertiti really isn’t your style

I know you invited me in
and I thought it was time
to let my guard down
but something about your expression
brings it all back

I won’t go back now

I once thought we might remain friends
but I’ve felt it best to keep my distance
ever since you disappeared
It seemed you didn’t want to be found…

I turned to the pen and the camera lens
to work through the grief
and look for some answers
to get myself to a better place

It’s been slow, slow going
on loose, gravelly ground
but slowly, slowly, slowly
I’ve come back around

I’ve heard from you only a time or two
so it makes more sense to let it all go
That’s not a place I care to return to

Why should I go back now?

I once mapped out a plan of sorts
a rough sketch of where I wanted to be
I’m not there yet, but well on my way
It’s sometimes uncomfortable
but I’m free

(4/5 February 2016)