Vocalized

I wrote you three letters that all ended in
    I hate you
    I love you
    and I just don't know
I can't distinguish which I was feeling
            at any time
    while writing you these declarations of love
    these suicide notes, these purges for purgatory.
All I can say is that
        they were felt.

I am feeling my skin melt against me
        I'm not talking about bone or muscle
    I'm talking about feeling like my
    Skeleton is a Tombstone, a Crucifix
        And everything is squeezing until it can't.

I feel shrunk down to parchment
The ink is drying and I can't help
    but feel marked
    tattooed, corrupted.
I'm folding myself into an envelope
Because all I want is to be enveloped
    Held, Covered, Protected
I wrote you three letters because I couldn't
say them. Couldn't be a person.
I still can't.


            This is nothing if not the fourth letter.