I never heard what others said
Never opened any letter
Never saw your face for the last time.
But the time you went away, I realised that there was a cavern inside me
A deep one.
There was time when I had met a million people
Each of a different type, different eyes.
And even now I am passing the same thing
All over my heart. To just find you or someone like you.

You don’t miss any damn thing? And yes I know it.
It’s difficult to stay with those painfully sweet memories,
Trapped in my heart there are letters lying open
But the one I read the most is of you.
It’s easy to leave someone. But understanding the pain,
Of that person whom you said goodbye is just a little more painful than you think.
I know you won’t feel anything reading this,
What’s the point of writing to you when the only thing I remember is the word you left me with.
Now your whisperings ran wild over my face,
Crawling through my flesh, scratching every bit of my skin which isn’t feeling your presence.
There was a time when you said to me to live each of my days as if my last.
But now I don’t know why each day for me becomes the first time I met you.
Waiting for your answer though you don’t have any...
Reading your memories, your words. It turns out to be the most painful thing.
I still remember your goodbye as I am wiping my incessant tears,
“To my friend who lived for me, whose every reason to live now feel like regret to me.
and to whom I just left a haggard word and a topic to cry upon”

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