Fruitless Love

It screams at me,
the echoes of deserted memories
that haunt my forgotten dreams.

It opens the door to rainfalls of tears.
Boxes of damp tissues fall to the floor;
All those bemused years.

Symbols arranged on the paper
stay engraved in my heart,
though I long for them to perish.

I could simply throw it away,
or cast it to the flames,
smoldering a witch to her stake.

But I will read it over and over again
until those scribbles no longer have meaning;
until I no longer feel pain.

And I will burn out the engraved words,
leaving only a barren hole
of a place where love once grew.