Business Lined

Don't squash me with hope or leave me alone in the air. This thing started with the post office. Now, mailing letters in scrawled writing. Breaking things without meaning to break them. My body surely has been taken over by something that keeps cutting ties and veins. My demand letter read as such. I imagined it business lined and chicken-scratched, floating through the air without string, with stars on its tail and rainbows instead of the definition of 'pillar to post.' I believe it is war we were playing. Tied by the enemy, elbowed in the small of the back. Bitten. Did I win?