//Down the corridors of my mind
are many doors,
cast with shadows from the past,
with the fragrance of my favourite cologne lingering about.
A door down the corridors
opens to a room of wine stained sheets
from the day you left
and we bid the necessary tattooed goodbyes.
It's the door unopened since the last day,
And the other one by my side,
opens to walls full of
portraits of the past sins,
and the paintings of passion,
that was long gone before the last day.
These doors open to bring back bittersweet memories
of the days when I was in the throes of agony,
draping tangerine skies of vengeance on my shoulders,
carrying the weight of a long lost relation,
just so you won't have to.
Down the corridors of my mind
are many doors,
cast with shadows of the past,
of the days when I felt your cacophonic breath on me,
and now I shut these doors in the corridors of my mind,
everytime I feel your presence lingering around,
Just like the fragrance of my favourite cologne.//
~Swati