Unopened Letters

Unopened letters

and unanswered phone calls,

hiding yourself

away as your life stalls.

A shadow of your former self,

consigned to words

you have written in pages

of unopened books

resting on a bookshelf.

Unable to partake

in normal conversation,

you live like this

due to self-preservation.

Day and night

your head never rests,

too worn out to realise what’s best.

Questions and answers

all morph into one,

is it now too late has

the damage been done.