You don’t know me anymore

 Except in names of places.

As you drive down to Serou

So many hours away,

There is my lingering absence,

 My maps to trace.

I don’t know you anymore

Except when I pass by

 The neighbourhood in Singjamei

 I had addressed

 Four years worth of letters to

 In Palel we miss each other

 By a couple of hours,

 Or lesser.

You had missed the turn

 In Kakching Lamkhai

 We must give it to Fate

For driving us so close

 Only to let us miss by so much.

Life grew on her like vines

 Twisting and Turning, leaning on her

People didn’t come back in her life

They left without saying goodbye.

And I weep
Over all the lines I wrote which didn't turn out
as beautiful as I imagined they would.

You can't help but laugh
At the absurdity of tears
The madness and the heat
The falling ill, the recovering
When you stayed up shivering all night
Wondering if you were dying
Like that time three years ago
The same time of the year.
Deja vu.

Fardeen made me take the inkblot test.

One of the statement said - someone you loved has decided to let you go and move on.

So I guess I knew.

You didn't have to write so much of what you didn't feel like writing.

you could have just said goodbye.

I would have understood.

Goodbye, fare thee well 

Birthdays are strange days

Birthdays are strange days
It's stranger how
You will never be same person I knew
With each passing year.
You will grow up without me,          
You will experience the world sans me by your side
Which breaks my heart a little bit
I can't help it, it does
But whatever we had, I still have
The years, our shimmering youth
And maybe I will learn to let you go without always wanting to stake a claim in your heart , in your life,
Always wishing for a bit of you.
The usual- tears and cigarettes
It's almost hilarious in its tragedy. 

Out of nowhere

Sometimes while watching a movie
And out of nowhere
Out of the blue of the night
I miss you
I thought it wouldn't come back again
This tightening of the chest
The burning the plummeting the longing
The past coming back in waves
Some with more intensity than others
Was it in another lifetime I used to come walking to your place on early misty mornings,
So full of love I thought I would burst into flames.