Waking up to the absence of you
Mid-day, hungover, and without a clue
It’s the questions that were never asked
That plague me so.
What was your favourite colour?
Your favourite shoe? Your favourite book?
Where is your favourite reading nook?
Which is your muse- love or dollar?
What was your favourite high school class?
Your first ever crush? Your favourite aunt?
Your favourite place to find a croissant?
Which punishment turns your moral compass?
Do you prefer ice cream to cake?
Joey to Chandler? Draco to Luna?
Mussels or shrimps or salmon or tuna?
Would you ever kill for love’s sake?
Would you choose music over art?
Food over sex? Full-fat or skimmed?
Would you travel throwing all caution to the wind?
What are your fail-proof plans to mend a broken heart?
As I pass day after day, night after night
Tormented by the silence ringing
Louder than the church-bells singing
The echo of your slamming doors unfaded.
“What do I do with the memories?”
She demands of him, icy fire burning her cheeks
“The times I dreamt of our future together?
Hoping that we’d grow old, and watch the other die?”
She fell in love with the ghost of an idea
That love was enough to sacrifice her self
That he would be a constant to her change
And he would be the magic to her pain
Those bicycle rides in her lane
His composure against her craze
And those tiny notes on her book shelf
Burnt down to the ground, one after another.
“What do I do with the memories,” she asks
Shaking with grief, and anger, and betrayal
Apologizing for something she cannot understand
“You make me want to be better for you,” she says.
“I burried those flowers down to the ground
And set fire to the empty words
I cut the telephone wire to control my urges
But what do I do with the memories?”
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The rainbow made way for the gloomy clouds
The molehill unattended grew to be a mountain
The flowers of desire fell dead on the ground
Those assured happy endings, now, uncertain.
All night, the phoenix laments on
Clear about the ashes it wouldn’t awaken from
As the baby that is yet unborn
Haunts the two sheer bodies to which it belongs
As they look beyond the pigmented streets
Which they glided happily through
And the demons they together beat
They see nothing but sorrows, a few
Love, Intimacy, Passion, Commitment
What once was is now forever lost
Hurt, Grief, Anger, a lost infant
Enough to bring back memories paused
Beyond the rights and justice
Rumi’s field where they met
Now unknown to what lust is
They shudder and lose the bets
A little toddler unknown to this grief profound
Leaves for a journey homeward bound
Its parents now making all the sounds
In the holy waters of divorce they drowned.
My words strain to rhyme. And this kinda sucked. I agree.