sadly, I doubted
despite the truth;
confused with the signs
in between the words;
you told me to use my heart
persistently, I used my head.
I made up bitter thoughts
in your absence;
I talked (and nagged!)
despite your need for silence.
I hated blindly,
even if your love was all that abounded.
I regret it
Recklessly writing you a letter I didn't mean
to show my rage;
for even allowing this unjustified anger for you
to lurk inside me;
to have had a share of some blissful moments,
only to cause both of us to tear, bleed, scar.
Give me some time...
To tell you the painful truth (though you may doubt it):
to take a grasp of the words you said
and decipher the signs in between;
to fill my head with delightful memories of my stories
and the peal of your laughter
(or the other way around):
to soothe the hurt that's breaking us softly
and heal the wound;
to use my heart,
undo the fury,
and vigorously tear out the letter.
To fight defeat and raise my head,
to look without a blink,
to capture our heaven,
to help me remember
should your silence linger to forever.