Letters To Claudia (If You're Happy, I Am Happy)

**Dedicated to my Aunt Claudia**

His scars completely sealed

with patches of darkened flesh so

perverse looking,

so undeniably noticeable...

everyone stops and glares

with intolerant eyes

at the incompleteness,

the "imperfect" wounds

that escaped his heart to surface

on the exterior parts of his body.

He only wishes she could see

the incandescent sting she left behind
as a nostalgic memory
concluded with a cliffhanger.

When he left her skin,

Spring bled out of

the only woman who had ever seen

dreams of his that

he expected would have been

tangible with her beside him.

Every quickened lash of the tongue spoke

words of a dear promise,
soaring upward towards
perpetual longevity.

Tears spilled over her glazed green eyes

through her letters...

yet, he will never forget

the whispers of happiness
that were hidden behind locks of gold,

the hand holding of youth
with dainty fingers laced around his arm,

the completeness of the irrational

logic that flooded their heads
during their endless days together.

He was so young...

yet, still, to this very day,

still so in love with her.

It has been years since he had

seen those tears fall down

into the palm of his hand.

Never being able to lend aid to her

stands as his only regret.

Never fully understanding

the complexities she underwent

back at home.

He wants her to know:

for the rest of their lives apart,

his hand will never loosen its grip -

the sun will set on this chapter,

and restore her faith by catch his notes

on every falling star

that is never too far

out of reach.