It's not much of the
missed calls and unanswered messages.
It's just that at 7am,
when the birds sung,
it was almost as if they were mimicking your voice.
At 3pm,
I was searching for your face
in the oceans of people.
And finally at 2am,
instead of drifting to sleep,
my mind drifts back to you.
Then I thought,
missing you is the most divine way of obliteration.
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 11:06 PM UTC
It's not much of the
missed calls and unanswered messages.
It's just that at 7am,
when the birds sung,
it was almost as if they were mimicking your voice.
At 3pm,
I was searching for your face
in the oceans of people.
And finally at 2am,
instead of drifting to sleep,
my mind drifts back to you.
Then I thought,
missing you is the most divine way of obliteration.
