found in a box

A letter. Written years ago. Never sent. I find it in a box. In the attic. The words are faded. But the feelings remain. Strong. Unresolved. I read the letter. And feel the weight. Of all the things I left unsaid. The letter is a fragment. A glimpse. Into a life. I used to live. I fold it up. And put it back. In the box. The words still linger. In my mind. A reminder. Of all the things. I never said.