i found your letters yesterday.
in the pages of that diary i stopped writing months back...
in small white envelopes,now dirtied with time.
the words in them have stopped meaning anything now...they're just faint imprints of footsteps.
taken for a distance traversed long time back.
we got lost then and havent found our ways back yet.
i thought the envelopes would keep maps that would help me back home.
but all i found were these misleading footprints.
maybe,i will burn them today.