We were kids,
two peas in a pod,
our mothers were in bliss,
like two angels of God;

they promised us to each other,
we thought it was to last;

we grew up in the same house,
the neighbours were aghast,
they thought we were crazy
but we're just lazy,
we didn't want to be apart,
so we didn't care about those retards;

Years later,
you and I,
met a friend,
who was a lie;

he said things,
you believed it instantly,
I failed to justify,
my pleas and cries;

I left the town,
promised to walk away,
you never knew what went down,
kept hunting for a way,
you never got a find,
held helpless in front of time;

I walked the earth like a dead leaf,
kept my keep even in solace and retreat;

you had no idea,
but the day I knew I wasn't to last,
I had to flew,
and return without regrets of the past;

first I wrote the letter,
then tore it in bits,
patience was irritating me,
the results were threatening;

I didn't know how you'd react,
but I had to prepare you for the act,
God wasn't going to define our story,
even when I was the one to say sorry;

I wrote the entire letter again,
kept at it the whole night without fail;

It was filled like a journal,
held all my secrets and grunts,
you were to read and consume,
even when I would have be gone and subsumed;

You were lucky to say your goodbye,
after the reality hit home,
I was the one who could not bear,
to leave behind one of my own.
© Nilakshi Garg