This is the hundredth poem I write to you,
Most probably not the last nor the least,
Some I had to throw away,
Some I didn’t finish, but some?
Some I didn’t even start cause tears
Yes tears, formed their way earlier than expected
Just like it did, took you unexpectedly.
With the hope you were gon’ come back,
With the verse in the bible which quotes
“But your dead will live, their bodies will arise”,
Hoping you on the other side awaits for that moment
To see the pile of these poems
Yes some are written in tears some in blood.
With everything I saw that used to be yours,
On my, your birthdays,
To you, I wrote
To share the thoughts, emotions and cakes too
Yes I wrote.
To keep the distance,
To fill that gap,
But again it’d never do
But with these, where to?
To you I guess.
Are filled with black and red lines
Suicide notes and yes DEATH’s the keyword
But never, no never
Will I wail,
To ease the pain,
Oh I will write
For it feels right.
But with you, to you,
Even if earth could swallow us whole,
I’d just settle there, yes I might.