A relentless love,
whose sent letters lay unopened,
unwanted and unclaimed,
like mail delivered faithfully to a vacant house.
thrown at the page
in a lonely, frustrated rage,
others written under covers,
the words tangling, trembling together
like first-time lovers...
such pathetic effort to find the perfect words
for a song that never will be heard
But messages are meaningless unless received...
and when the silence grew,
then came sad shame,
hidden like the first blood-stained sheet.
So then I learned to wait,
ignoring the crimson pool
growing at my feet.
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