was something to get used to.
Lying warm on the sofa-
cuddled up so closely,
that with any sudden movement
we would both (suddenly) fall off.
I can't stop breathing,
like I can't stop loving you.
And I obviously can't be on a flight-
to a new continent,
alone without
intermittently crying my eyes out.
what it is to be alone
far away alone
who lives far
how is being far
being anywhere from exactly this place?
I have forgotten certain things about you so soon.
and I am getting used to the notion that maybe you
have, for me too.
Arrange the suitors in a line-up.
None could have been there for me.
Perhaps because I am too broken,
to really be there for anyone, myself.
To be in love
love like it could be a thing that comes and goes.
Forgotten, to be remembered like it was after seven months
of not seeing you
We felt each other's arms in disbelief-
"Is this you ?
I am still in love with you."
I am fucking heart broken.
And I am not sure where I am going from here.
because,
Moving forward
feels like moving backwards
as we learn from our mistakes
our mistakes become are our memories
And so I
I build, I break.
I break, so that I can build.
I am trying to breathe a fire of my own belly,
to have no doubt that the
one who is doing this
is me.
