Posted: February 14, 2017 in Heartache, Uncategorized

Did you do the breakfast in bed? Did you bring her flowers? Did you read her Maya Angelou? Did you make love to her and not just to her body but ravished her soul? Did you leave her speechless unaware of her own words? Did she tell you she loved you and would love you for million years to come? 

But I the surrogate of your unborn love suffer the melancholy of living without one’s North. I resurrect the notion of a maybe with you just to feel that last hint of true love, if our forever had existed. I shout your name in extracts of pain submerged in moan to heal the wounds you never cared to heal. I marked your name in fleshes that resent the entrance of another. I sewed your threads to heal my broken home. You reside in a goodbye everyone simply says and no I’m not hurt because they left but you echo the emptiness of not being; here and not here.

Did you dance with the familiar tunes of  John Legend? Did she look at you with teary eyes, silenced the three words? Did you feel home when she said you were home? Did she make you want to wake up next to her? Did you get scared of the possibility of not having her tomorrow? Did she smell of heart shaped chocolates? Did she inflict the pain that no medicine will heal? Did she promise you tomorrow?

And you believed her, didn’t you?


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