A letter with love

Someday I will write a letter,
Oh yes, I have planned it since long.
I was in high school and I had begun to dream,
I wanted to write a letter and to sign it with love.
But I set those papers on fire.
Why? Well, I fumbled for words
Words that could paint my tears and yet not drown them
And I scribbled with dried ink,
Canvassing my soul but could I yet write one?
My hands froze, my eyes went hazy,
"Oh look at her, what a pity!", they mocked.
But little did it matter or perhaps it did matter then,
But bit by bit those patches of dried ink began to flow
I wrote words which transformed into sentences.
Sentences that got a lease of life,
And I wrote a letter.
I looked at it, folded it and put it in my drawer
And one sunny day I set it ablaze
My heart fluttered and my throat had a lump
But little did it matter, little did I care.
It, I felt was not written with love,
So, I sat at my desk
And tried writing one
But voices within me fought and the fight ate me alive.
I threw my pen and never picked it up again.
Someday, I will write a letter
It will be a short one but it would be with love
And then I would fold it and put it in my drawer
And smile at it as if it were a flower
Someday, perhaps.