and maybe some other time, life will let you choose me too.


i still remember your shaky hands and your sweaty face, the first time we met,
and the shy eye contacts,
grabbing our own fists as if
we were grabbing the last life boats
on a sinking ship, fingernails digging deep into our own skin, making it bleed red, because we were too scared to hold each other's hands, do you remember that? and i knew, you were the word closest to love, you were the flower that spilled poetry, as if colors were not enough;you were the hush of wind,the song of the stars, the cuckoo's soft coo; you were the sky painted in shades of blue; your voice was on the other side of the phone,it was 3 am and I whispered, underneath my blanket, on repeat, like a broken cassette"I choose you.
I choose you. I choose you. "
but how could I forget
that skies change colors?
How could I forget that
flowers die too?
i still remember the last time we met,
it was beautiful, teary eyes, grabbing each others fists, so tight, looking at the sky,
as if maybe it was the last time
we would see light, and then, two days later, you died; everytime, you said "i was fine"you lied; and I sit here alone tonight, thinking how it would have been, if life had chosen me for you too,
just like I chose you,
i wonder how a sickness could take your life when youwere the most alive and
i wonder if you are scattered into the sky,
with the rhythmic ringing of my heart that
reciprocates the echoes of my head,
i lay next to your pictures and
hand written notes, in my bed; and under the blanket, i whisper to your photographs,
i still choose you and
maybe, some other time,
life will let you choose me too.

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