She stared at the smog and it flashed a face back at her with another round of colours that clogged her senses.
Remnants of you
Reflect in each broken part of my heart.
My words break out
like an epidemic of depression
My dreams drain my day of all light
I walk around with drooping shoulders
weighed down with your loss
My school bus conductor would scream out “Moti, bhaag!” expecting me to run faster from my house till the school bus already waiting for me outside the gate of our building. I don’t remember much about how I felt about it, frankly speaking.
Nothing has changed. . .
I still cry the same tears for a past unforgotten.
I still laugh with the same people who were always there.
But a fear of losing all of this tumbles down a shiver down the back now.
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