“I love you,”
Was the last thing I wanted to say to you.
Before you walked away
And disappeared with the melting sunset.
When a part of me died with the broken bones
And the cracked ribs that produced an empty sound,
A nostalgic echo with the flawed beats of my heart.
So instead of letting you know,
How much I loved you –
I remained still and I choose to stay.
I stayed like the wrinkles of my bed
That unfolds themselves with your curves
And remains intact even in your absence.
I stayed like the roots of a winter tree
That never lifts up above the ground
And only choose to penetrate within
Until nothing remains to grow.
And I choose to stay,
Like a frozen chunk of ice
Or a heartless bronze statue;
Having a faraway look in my eyes –
Waiting for you to come back.
Waiting for you to turn.
Waiting to forgive you.
Because someone once told me,
That is what love is.
~ Bhavya Koushik
@ LiveWire 