If I still hold a chance

I must write back to you,

my sins were ugly

and your lips moving-disaster,

your footsteps in the house were red signs for my life

your early morning slow-high conversations punctured my heart

my repeated talks of ugly truths-was recurrent and mean

your weight and my dress code were both troublesome and disgraceful for our families

your work ethics and my housliness made us undear to each other

you screamed on your co-workers, and I on housemaids,

I quoted your each word in a flowery manner to gain respect as your dear wife

I learnt a few tricks, and wore no makeup,

I cried from time to time, and gained sympathy being a child of a big family

you were a monster, and i a venomous snake,

I have never loved you, quite sincerely, neither do I plan to do so,

each time we fought, I felt myself powerless, in front of your thundering classic high voice

now that I lie on my deathbed and you being buried right next to me

I must write, we must have kissed in anger or frustration

and hid the emotions of dark and evil

If I still have a chance

let me write back to you in love, than in agony



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