I still have your letters & I read them every day,
Tears fall from my eyes & I don’t know what to say.
Blood letters are the parchments for they are stained crusted dark red,
I missed you so much then so I wished I was dead.
I looked for a knife but it was not that sharp
So I picked the scissors,
And twisted it round my wrists till bright blood glimmered.
I gagged as I saw the puddle on the floor,
I was determined to end my life because I could not take it anymore.
The ruddy drops spilled on your love letters as I cut into myself,
I heard the lies in the letters you wrote yourself.
I did feel pain & a cold sensation,
But what of it you had left me,
I grew morbid when you were with her & I thought how could it be?
You said to burn the letters in the fire for you did not want me,
I kept the letters even after your betrayal ever wondering how.
Blood letters stained with the red ink of true love.
The doctor attended & wondered what red wounds tainted a dove?
I lay in the hospital reading your letters, crying in sobs
for the lady who was my better.
You masqueraded your amour & left me ink,
I from that day forward drank from the sorrowful red drink.
Blood letters of pain & separation was my gift after loving you,
Blood letters were my holy relics of my love so true.
I roam the earth now with gashes on my wrists so pale,
People who see them wonder what was my woeful tale.
I count the days now to my end,
As there is no hope for me my life is not going to bend.
In your blood letters stained with veins droplets,
Will I see your face & continue to dish out these couplets.
Copyright 2014 Fiza Pathan
Image courtesy: http://img3.wikia.nocookie.net/