How easily one unlearns them.
And when the voids fill the gaps in between,
They etch onto us, like reminders.
Cindered on our pillows, the shampoo we’d shared
How I’d been conscious to throw it away, after you left.
A hundred lonely nights of talking it out,
Sometimes to myself, and at times to your silence.
They only grew, the shadows against the wall
Of the monsters lying under our beds.
When did it come to this?
No one would become a friend now, nor a lover
How important can one person be?
How many relations can break at a single goodbye,
How come we never think till there’s no other choice?
When you left, a thousand echoes hid in the nooks you’d lazed on
Your touch was almost shed off in the springtime of my poetry writing
I sighed at the thought of you gone,
The only solace being, the secret remained.