Dear Avabelle

By Neelisha Barfa

“Dear diary,” as she dragged her pen

I felt uneasy as I read on,

But then again I couldn't read on,

I felt miserable as I swallowed her pain.

I felt the rage in her burnt heart

flowing down at the thought

of something familiar,

The thought of her pen.

I felt the coldness in her dead fingertips

dragging down at the touch

of something familiar,

The touch of her pen.

I felt the bitterness in her fleshy tears

rolling down at the sound

of something familiar,

The sound of her pen.

I couldn't find her love for living,

Between these lines all I could see

were wilted letters that grew

on branches of rotten words.

"Dear diary" as I wait for her

to write these words again,

But then again I know she won't

after she left me with a goodbye

engraved with the blood of her pen,

“I am sorry I should've known better,

You don't deserve this, you're just a piece of paper.”

Dear Avabelle, please don't hate me,

I can't break this curse, I have tried,

I always wished for me a quiet voice

to console you dearly as you cried.

By Neelisha Barfa