The Cure for Depression

We met at the crossroads
Of present and past
I knew that this meeting
Was surely our last
You didn’t say a word
Just handed it to me
Walked off into a promise
I never could see
I looked at that paper
Clean, crisp, and white
Began to read it
Immobilized with fright
Not in what was written—no!
Only for the writer
I read on in silence
My throat growing tighter
This couldn’t be the girl
I befriended long ago
After nearly four years
I thought she would grow
And she had, yes she had!
But into the dark
And I’m faced with this letter
With the innocence of a shark
I know I must say it
I don’t know just how
In reply to that story
I read just now
But because of my strong feeling
About what this meant
I know that my letter
Should never be sent
It was meant to remain
Unfinished forever
But this was the straw
That would break the lever
And I can never go back
Once the message is sent
I only hope that she
Will see what it meant
But I know that she won’t
She’s living in dreams
And I doubt if she even knows
What her own story means.

November 2005