Like a photo that I can't look at but I can't throw away.
It's in the same drawer as I put your letter.
Why then can't I pick up this pen and write you back?
Like when the sun goes all the way down, right behind the mountains.
Why then can't I pick up this phone and call you back?
I'm going to write down how I feel - this page is blank for a reason.
I guess this is my letter back to you and I'm sorry.
I guess you where right and things are okay.