Dearest heart, this ink is poison,
My words a tethered cry,
For in the darkest corners lie,
The truths we can’t deny.

I write to you in trembling hand,
This missive bound by flame,
A confession of the broken,
Who cannot speak your name.

Should you find it, years from now,
Know this much to be true:
The shadows I embraced in life,
Were all to guard you, too.