"Whats wrong"
                       I can't tell, is the water on my face rain or tears?
                           I can't say it out loud! Please read it in my eyes....

"Can you just not be so **** sad for once?"
                          The wind claws at everything, a welcome pain.
               I'm trying! Can't you see the effort? Oh stars, it HURTS!

"You can talk to me..."
                             I look away, I cannot bare the pain in your eyes.
                           Oh darling I know, I want to but... I can't.

"Talk **** it."
                            Your eyes are hard now, your angry with me, please don't be mad.
                        Don't you see? My voice betrayed me!

"You know, you make it hard to love you sometimes."
                              The song playing is fitting "I'm searching for something that I can't reach."
                               Your words are cutting me. Stripping me to the core, please for the love of God, don't say you can't love me anymore...

she says
i want to read you like a book
pour your words over me like honey
and drown in their sweetness

i whisper
i’m sorry but i am not a happy story
my poems are often like trauma surgery
and i write words to close these wounds
with barbed wire stitches

she replies
i want to read everything you wrote
point out which scars pair with which poem
and tell me the story of how your flesh
was rent, shred and healed by time
show me how the edges of the tear
reached for each other and made you
whole again

There are things that are better left unsaid; like when I asked you to leave, you left, even though the tears brimming in my eyes were begging you to stay.
When the door closed shut behind you, I had to swallow the lump down my chest, get a hold over my emotions and carry out with my daily routine without a mere mention of your name.
And then, do you know what I did at night? When the house was empty and only the moon could witness my vulnerability from the open window, I decided to let it all out. Once and for all. I cried till my cheeks started burning because of all the tears that I harshly wiped off. I wanted to torture myself so I replayed the memory of you leaving over and over again in mind. I howled in pain while clinging onto your old favorite tee shirt which I gifted to you on your last birthday.
I tried to calm myself so I brushed my fingers through my hair, like you used to whenever I was anxious. No medicine could compare to the magical power that your warm touch possessed.
And the next morning I found myself lying on the floor with a broken bottle of whiskey. The broken shards of glass seemed so appealing. But I knew self harm wasn't an option so I tried to stand up and get ready for the day. I went to work, my friends made a jib about how my hair looked funny, they had no idea that you left and it was me who had asked you to leave. I couldn't control my emotions so I left for home.
But even at home I felt homeless. I couldn't control the tears, and I cried harder than I did on the night before. My plan of not shedding another tear for you failed miserably. I opened my phone gallery and clicked on my favourite picture of yours and talked to the inanimate object. Begging and pleading you to come back.
I guess your absence is nothing but my penance. Something that I must suffer silently and all alone.