you would put words
in my mouth for me
to swallow up and
love you for the
beast you became.
so, i did.

i would always pick up a pen
and let my tears flow through
the pen and spill on the paper;
glistening with inked pride.

i guess, the pen had
more courage than
my quivering lips.

a day will come when
all these letters would
be mere smudges of
faded ink.
but, my love for you
won't.