She Read it Anyway

She slid her pale hands over the seal,

The stamp that had stopped her once before.

She swore she’d never touch it again— 

to bury it deep in the attic, where it all began.

That she’d forget,

that she wouldn’t need it.

That the letter was so hidden, she couldn’t find it.

But in the back of her mind she knew.

The temptation was too strong.

 

And so now, she stands in the attic once more.

Her eyes drifting past white-glazed peaks—

mind travelling back to then.

Fingertips gliding across the surface,

memorising every detail, again and again.

The envelope was now crisp,

in its past year of hiding.

She had ignored this for too long. 

 

Her thumb lifted the weakened seal. 

The letter’s breath, long held, 

now exhaled.

“My dear daughter…” it murmured.

The fragile paper trembled in her hands–

her eyes welled up, and the letter fell to the floor.

It was only a few words, but she couldn’t take it anymore.

She could picture her tone, her face–

her everything, even though she left without a trace. 

Maybe it was still too early.

Too fresh in her mind.

Maybe the letter was best left behind.