You left without a word,
It hurt,
I swallowed  it like a bitter pill.
I carry a fake smile,
I lead my normal life as if nothing has happened,
I tell one and all you are my past.
But, every evening I await for you at the front door,
Thinking why you have not come  as yet.

I sold out my existence
in trying to buy your love.

I only write when I'm sad
Does that make me mad?
When I wish to be dead
And all these holded tears are shed
I turn to poetry and suddenly life's not as bad