you remind me of squirrels which stores food for winter but ends up forgetting the hidden place,
you wait for the trains and him who never come,
your love for him is a fragile treasure
of whose map he’s least bothered about.
to love is also a losing game
don’t miss you in the act of loving.
stop pampering yourself with his sweet lies and unfaithful lullabies.
your forefinger that points out everything
couldn’t navigate your own heart and it’s pristine feelings,
remember, it beats for yourself and it doesn’t murmur his name.
you can’t hold on forever,
even walls fall down,
stop cementing those cracked bricks,
let things be as it is,
learn to be still.
for all the wrong places you’ve been means
the wrong direction you followed,
love that looks intimate
is also a toxic elixir from other side of the coin,
choose a wise heart to reside in.
Thank you so much for reading!❤️