Dear The Woman,

It has come to my attention
           that we’re both suffering from the same
                       poetic delusion.

How are you alive this far in?
           I spend my days in a wondering well.
                       Have you lost

your conviction to seek help?
           Your eyes too accustomed to the pitch
                       black nothingness.

I can still catch a glimmer.
           So, once I get out, I’ll throw my hope
                       down to you.

Respectfully,
Another Woman