FREE LOVE LETTERS

Author: Paul Ransom

  • Love letter # 45

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Why the drugs? They allow me to use the mirror, they paper over the obvious. I honestly don’t know what I’d do if I stopped to acknowledge. Some people are stupid – they destroy what they love by oversight. More fool them. I was not so lucky. I torched the treasures with open eyes. It…

  • Love letter # 51

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    I saw a girl who looked like you; she made me tremble. With a trivial turn of her head, with an accidental glance, she took an old man’s composure and made wide eyes of it. She won’t even remember. I do nothing but. The children are playing now, the ghosts are out of their cupboards;…

  • Love letter # 17

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Because I am no saint I can say this: I want you. I have thought and felt intolerable things. I have bitten my tongue so hard my mouth has filled with blood. I have struggled with the weight of hunger – tried not to let it show. By confessing this I am praying that you…

  • Love letter # 124

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    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    It would be much easier if I didn’t – but I do. For despite all my trying, all my regularly updated vows, I still sit in the place where we once lingered, vainly reaching across time, trying not to breath too loudly; lest the remnants be obscured. In every room, the archaeological record, barely buried…

  • Love letter # 33

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    The lovers are the kings, the lonely are the cherished, the forgotten are the exalted. And the beggars shall live in the palace; and the mighty dwell amongst the ashes. And then the angels will walk with the fallen – the proof being you. I do not know why you are down here with me…

  • Love letter # 76

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    There was a moment; that second when you… In that beat my fear turned to brightness, my resolve gave way to keening. You cut the brake lines. You sent me shooting through space. I was a willing sucker. I wanted it. I sang for the rushing of blood. I begged for the horses to be…

  • Love letter # 19

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    It is though, at any moment, my secret will come hurtling out of me. The veneer I wear, the various masks I don to get through the day – they are cracked beyond repairing. When you stand next to me I have to hold my breath, bite my tongue until it bleeds. And you don’t…

  • Love letter # 28

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    I am no saint; I know there were days when bitterness almost had me by the throat. I would listen to my fellow divorcees and I would share their complaints. But not for long – because I could not forget that things in our house were never that bad. Yes, we ended. Yes, we bled.…

  • Love letter # 81

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    I wonder sometimes if this is poison. Or inspiration. I have never felt so naked. Or divine. To be humbled by love is to be open to life. All my old masks, they are unwearable now. Today I am barefoot and glad of the ground. Maybe now I don’t have so far to fall. Perhaps…

  • Love letter # 13

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    When I look back now I can see how I made it hard for you. I didn’t mean to; but still. You were telling me all along but I was deaf to everything except what I wanted. You warned me and I acted like a child in reply. I know you weren’t perfect. I know…