Let this envelope

Represent my heart:

I handed it to you,

And you tore it apart.

Inside was nothing

Though I tried

Nothing was capable

Of bringing you back to my side.

Glossy ink splattered

Like teardrops it fell,

To cool my eyes

After a visit to Hell.

The candle protested

And hid its light

Ignoring the fact

That I was trying to write:

I'm sorry.

Forever,

Sorry.

That's how I'd sign it

If you cared to see:

'Lily, I'm sorry.

Earnestly, Me.'

But the parchment is blank

It's been so for years.

I cannot complete it.

It haunts, and brings fear.

Perhaps you would understand

What I've failed to say

For many a day.

Can you still interpret,

My void lament…?

Your eyes,

Like the parchment,

Are blank, yet pristine.

Gleaming in the still air,

Contained with care,

Smoky and green.

With one look at the paper

Then a thought of your eyes

I can't stop;

I'm starting to cry.

Yet the letter must remain

On my desk,

(Though it brings me pain.)

It lies in peaceful rest…

And I hope you do the same.