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It's gone foreveršŸ„€

Here I am rolling on my bed, begging for sleep,
remembering the pieces I left behind years back and wondering if those are still alive.
I somehow want to go back and live in the yesteryears,
but if that turns out to be a good act, won’t it squeeze the memory from my heart forever?

How could I be a donor — a donor of a part of my life?
I wonder how easy it was to say everything.
A story half-read haunts more, they say —
but do the characters also experience the same?

I want to break barriers, peek into that life where my presence was once nurtured. šŸ’”
Would it be shackled by ethics?
Would it still be entertained?

I wonder if my breeze has ever passed by his courtyard;
I wonder if he ever saw me in her.
I wonder if I was strong — I still wonder.
What is it all for?

Can someone really be good enough to think within the boundaries?
Is it easy to forget someone who was your life once?
Would it be easy for him to get over it?

I don’t know. I still stare at pictures with a blank, heavy heart.
I cannot even hear my own heartbeat.
I ask again — what is it all for?

Even a leaf is attached to the plant it loves till death;
an echo stays in the room even after the sound has died.
Why do we humans leave each other so easily?

I often long for the warmth you provided.
I hate the fact that I must detach from the tender emotions that once held me together.
I am curious about the “what ifs” even today —
tell me, would I have been a bit happier?

Has anyone ever felt emotionally squeezed like this?
Has anyone understood the pain of wanting to revisit but being unable to?
Could I just bleed here on this white sheet and let go of my burden?
Or should I simply accept the incompleteness it caused?

Will I ever be able to pour all these emotions and rain over him for one nice afternoon?
Will he be drenched in the emotions meant for him?
Will he still curse the rain?
Will he still curse me?

Some questions are better left as questions —
and these are just one of those, as it was all over. Finally.
~NH
:)

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