Sunday, 4 October 2015

Letter to Self

I came across this beautiful letter to self written by an inmate at wormwood scrubs prison...

We have not spoken in a while... So long I barely know you. Now confined in these four walls you'd think I'd be forced to listen, but sometimes those closest to our hearts receive the least of our attention, so now with these words I hope that maybe we can have some time to say, I know I did you wrong. And I'm sorry.

yours have always been the hardest words to digest your praise is often bland and unseasoned, your scorn thick, coarse and stodgy, and often with no mind paid to my delicate tongue ad sensitive palate. THESE WORDS ARE NOT weapons, though they may cut you. They are not tools, though I hope to build you with them. And my tongue is not silver, though it may seek to buy you favour in return for good fortune when I say, I know i did you wrong, and I'm sorry

You barely turn to face me anymore. I loved your fickle dreams, I fanned your selfish fires and catered to your wanton needs, spent a lifetime raising you up in delusion, a king of a lonely kingdom, God of an empty space. Have I built you a lonely cell to rule over? Did we find ourselves a dark corner to rock in, back and forth for eternity shrouded by illusions of unachievable utopia- do we live there now?

Alone in this place I need you now more than ever but find I 'm more distant than I've known, and before I seek the forgiveness of others i'll seek the redemption of the only one who truly knows me and say, i know i did you wrong, and I'm sorry

In this room away from the civilised world where they make of great men, beasts and cattle, and though you never listened to a single word I said, it's time we had a simple conversation, for all the quick replies that seem to rattle round my head, all the good and bad advice and mysteries unravelled and the crumbling institution of myself, I want you just to know that I recognise your pain, and I've robbed you of your health

I know I did you wrong,