• the_wildfire 21w

    When you left
    You left in me a piece of you.
    And now i am living with that
    Nothing. Just your muse.

    You are not here to talk to me
    about my day.
    But you are there.
    I talk to you everytime
    And your essence will always remain
    In anything I write.

    When I asked you in my letters,
    'Will you remember me ?'
    You never had an answer.
    For now, I know
    What the silence renders.

    But I am doing fine.
    Without any whines.
    As I don't crave for anything, not mine.
    But once in a while
    I wish there was a word from you
    For I have nothing much to reconcile.


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    The lost light