No me escribas

Don't write to me, I prefer
not to have news from you,
I'm afraid, very afraid
that your letters will hurt me,
that one day they will tell me
that you have forgotten me
that your kisses and caresses
belong to a rival.

You don't know what I've suffered
since the day you left
when I saw that you were no longer there,
and that I only found myself,
I was angry, I was sad,
I don't know what I would have done
and that night of sadness
and pain I got drunk.

Since then I have tried
to get rid of your memory,
to rip you out of my chest,
to kill that obsession,
but it's useless because the more
I tried to forget you
you were like a hook
in my poor heart.

I filled the walls
of the room with your pictures
and your letters, the first ones,
the ones you used to send me
I still keep them
because in them you told me
that you would never forget
my love.

Yesterday afternoon at the moment
I was feeling the saddest
longing for your memory,
I received a letter,
when I saw it was your handwriting,
I was afraid to read it,
and trembling without even
opening the envelope, I tore it up.