Because she was not like everyone
She was distinct and lost;
Lost in the melancholy of life
She would feel peace,
Peace on painting her thoughts on the canvas
But, no one knew how dark her thoughts were,
The ruthless body was her canvas, the blade was her brush
and
The only color she had was red
red, the color of her pure and clean blood.
She was lost,
Lost in the melancholy of life.
“You’re beautiful, I love you.“, it read
I had received my first love letter
To realize that the words were fake, it took me a decade
The day I read it, the words made me feel better
“Let us escape, I won’t leave you”, It read
I never knew the words were never meant and were just told
As soon as I realized it, I Was dead
To me, He was as precious as gold
“Hold my hand, come with me”, it read
I held his hand and we left
There were more lies to come ahead
He stole my heart and I lost my existence in that theft
“Your hands are pretty, I will hold them forever”, it read
Today they are full of scars and look terrible
All I would share what I feel is with my TED
I trusted his words like, I trusted the Bible
“Lets break up, We cannot be together”, it read
Your last letter i received, Broke me into bits and pieces
I cried all night on my bed
Nothing could get me back not even any psychological thesis.
Today, I write back to you.
A letter about how the love is now dead
about how I let go off memories with you
Our relationship is like a broken necklace with no beads and only the thread
I thought i won’t move on, I ain’t strong
my smile was hidden, It seemed to be shy
but time proved me wrong
I am here happy, waving the dead memories good bye.
Akshata Shetty 