Handwritten letters
Each tell the story of our lives.

Once with fresh ink,
Now dried and faded
Some to be kept folded in our pockets
While Others are locked away in a keepsake box

Love and heartache
Loss and grief
Sorrow and hope
All tucked away, creases marking time

As our letters are read,
Pictures painted in vivid color
Reminding us of our past

Letters, either torn or tossed away,
With Tattered edges, crinkled paper
And Words scratched out
Desperate to erase
But never truly gone

Letters, Scribed in brilliant hues
And kept close to our hearts,

Hoping to hold dear
Throughout our lifetime

Letters, cleverly hidden
Like Loved ones who have since passed,
Tucking them into spaces
Lie in wait until you need them most

Collections of letters
Written every day,
Delicately pressing our ink Into tender paper

And once Our letters are written,
We pass our pens to others

To fill full and fresh with the ink of their lives
And write their own collection of letters.


M.L. Flickinger

Aside from writing, Melissa is an advocate for mental health and wellness - fighting against the stigma of mental illness. Focusing on mindfulness, anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder, OCD, eating disorders, ADHD, addiction, PTSD, emotional abuse, domestic violence, trauma, and recovery. She has a slight (okay, huge) obsession with coffee and all things pumpkin.


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