I used to comtemplate death every day but it all changed when I looked deeply into your glorious eyes because it was in those eyes; the hope, the light, the shine, enough to keep me going
And with every little drop of rain in the monsoon he wishes to go back in time and fix the mess he created
He still thinks of you when there’s a full moon and the ocean tides are raised wishing that you’ll come back and fix him
And while writing everyword for you he soaks the pen into the sea of memories because it is all he has left now
And when he looks at stars in the night he wonders whether you’d be staring at them thinking about him
And during the most awful nights he tries to pick up and join the parts of memories you left to recreate your presence
They say the darkest hour is just before dawn but dawn is nowhere to be found in the darkest hour he has been since your departure

One thought on “Scraps”

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