Ramblings

By Caasie

4.7K 35 27

A collection of notes, poetry and other rambles that have no place to go... **I have a new pocket sketchbook... More

Descriptive Paragraph
Not Granted!
A Letter from the Lost
Sonnet
They
Relapse
Your Dreams Come Crashing Down All Too Soon
People Say that there are Always Two Sides to a Person
Goodness Gracious!
Broken
Human
Crumpling Within
Spring is Here
Lonely Misery
Falling
The Coastal Shore that is You
Beauty
Lonely Paradise
She's all smiles
Nightmare
Music
The Process of Changing
A Letter to a Problematic Itch
Inevitable
Sehnsucht No More
Sweet Nightingale

The End to You and I

96 2 0
By Caasie

Copyright © 2014 Caasie Cabral-Pereira

The End to You and I

  

To Sir Pharisee,

First, I would like to begin this letter by pointing out that I have refrained from using any form of endearment while addressing you above, and I will continue to do so, for I feel you deserve none. You have done me a great many wrongs, Sir Pharisee, and I write to you, not as a confession of some half-witted, unconditional love for thee—which, I know very well, you hope to receive—, nor do I write to express the varying shades of my anger for thee. I write, rather, to inform you of a new understanding between us, which shall be taken into immediate effect once you have read this letter; you are no longer permitted to speak to me—whether by letter or in person—, nor are you granted permission to visit me or inquire after me.  I refuse to be in your retched presence!

You see, Sir Pharisee, I have grown very cold of late, and your arms—which I once sought comfort in—can no longer warm me. They speak millions of your treacherous ways of fooling my feeble heart into your hands, and I cannot allow for that to continue. You have succeeded in tricking me to blindly trust in you, and have taken all of me—my body, mind, and soul—in the process. But! I refuse to be your love slave, and most importantly, to continue suffering from your abuse. You shall injure and probe my feeble heart no more, Sir Pharisee! No more, shall you hold my body, mind, and soul in your possession! No more, shall you have my love, Sir Pharisee! And no more shall you hear of me!

I have taken back into my possession, all of who I am, and as a security measure, have locked it away in a box made of ice. But, not only have I locked it away, I have also stored it behind the great indestructible walls that I have built, and you may never tear them down or come near. Sir Pharisee, I am no longer yours and this is the end to you and I.

Miss Riven Frost

Copyright © 2014 Caasie Cabral-Pereira 

All rights reserved

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