Day 2: Silence
Dear Chaitra, I wonder, will you ever read these letters? Will they even reach you? I left one in a copy of a book at the library. One I remember seeing you read years ago. It was a book of poetry. You said the eloquence of the prose gave you life and I had never wanted to memorize a poem before that moment. After that I consumed poetry like it was literally keeping me alive. You know what Chaitra? In a way it was. There were pieces of time when I read and felt, just briefly, like I understood you a little better. As though if I read enough I could hold that bit of you close. It still feels that way... The silence is the hardest part. I used to love music... It's just... Poetry slams, rap battles, a good song that gets lodged in your subconscious and comes out as a whistle or a hum. The way it takes you right back to the moment you first heard it. My mom used to say that music was powerful. People who didn't remember who they were could remember and sing along to songs they