letter 402

12/5/1927 - letter 402

Dear Blanche,

I don't know what's happening to me. I can no longer see the light which used to shine so radiantly out of your eyes - now it is just a distant memory. There are no longer any happy reflections, there instead I see a crow swoop over your face and I want nothing more then to make it go away - but I can't.

The sun is setting and I fear that I must go with it. The moon, it brings the real me alive and I can't control it. It's as though the green and red monster, which eats away at my suffering, bursts out of its cage and takes control of my chest, my mind, my heart. it poisons me, making me feel what no man should feel, what I can't feel.

I am not who you think I am. Not a shy, sweet, innocent child - not anymore. I am a monster and my time is coming. On a dark night with no stars for they, like all things, is repulsed by me. Soon all restraints will be gone and I am coming. I am imprisoned...for now, a prisoner criminal waiting for punishment. But when it is given, when the hammer hits the woodwork, I am gone.

So for now i leave you with Percy Green:

"A man with words and no deeds,
Is like a garden full of weeds,
And when the weeds begin to grow,
It's like a garden full of snow.
And when the snow begins to fall,
It's like a bird upon the wall,
And when the bird away does fly,
It's like an eagle in the sky,
And when the sky begins to roar,
It's like a lion at the door,
And when that door begins to crack,
It's like a stick across your back,
And when your back begins to smart,
It's like a pen knife in your heart,
And when your heart begins to bleed,
You're dead and dead and dead indeed,"