Then the heart asked my mind a question,
Or, well the softer part of me, to the more reasonable one
For how long, do you think, this one wound can bleed
My mind, unsure, haughtily said
You held on it, way longer than he did
The pieces of my heart cringed under
The voice holding the ultimate truth
As the frozen memories of him
Came rushing back
I know it is so,
But these hands never learnt to let go
The hands looked flustered,
Their voices timid with the brewing anger
Replied "neither did you, heart. Neither did you."
And stop pretending
You're the only who holds grievance,
At least you don't stay up
Writing about the lines on his palm,
All these poems,
He never bothered to throw a short glance