Sonpapdi..

My bed my pillow my bedsheet my blanket,

are complaining me..

for I repeat them, the same stories same memories same feelings.

Which were previously, daily updated.

They miss you,

they miss our talks,

our dreams, to see you every moment.

They remember when you held my hand,

realizing how much it was going to hurt,

when you lose grip.

They remember our long conversations,

"Sonpapdi", they are still in search of that,

In the hope they will find.

They remember,

they miss,

they say,

this wound is not a bruise,

ignoring it won't make it go.

You are that moment,

which I inhaled so deep that every time I exhale I feel your presence.

But, You left me, so did I.

For it was my self respect which stopped me.

You are heaven, and no one can hold heaven in hand.

Your smile,

I would cross Oceans for that.

I am weathering,

Breaking down into smaller pieces,

for sure I would die someday holding your memories in my heart,

"My soul".

-©TheCursedPOET