i want to make a poem
about how much i yearn for you
and for the moments and time
lost in the wind.

but the words refuse to come out;
it drags itself up to my throat and just hangs there.

it just
hangs there,
kept and caged in the crevices of my mind.

perhaps it hurts too much to write
because the pain becomes real;
and it becomes terrifying.

these days
feel so abundantly empty;

i have become absolutely enamored
with the way our silence lulls us to sleep;
embracing each other's warmth and company.

but, alas, such bitter fate.

now, i try to fill the void with mindless chatters
but it all remains futile.

everything hurts without you.

and then i saw you
again; the silence between
us became painful.

the nights devoid of holiness
always seemed
to find itself tangled
with the crestfallen visage
always plastered on mine.

a close acquaintance of mine
would be the moon--

glimmering and illuminating
the regrets and mistakes
emblazoned deeply
onto every fibre of my being.

my dreaded moment has come--
the clock made itself known;
reverberating
through the fragile threshold
i dared to call my home.

once more,
it made me a fool
for believing
i could be liberated
from this labyrinth.