Oh, the audacity of leaving the person you love!
To walk away with steady feet,
While their heart still trembles in your hands.
To close the door so gently,
As if silence could soften
The thunder you have caused.
Oh, the elegance of cruelty,
To smile while departing,
To bless the wound you created,
And name it destiny.
You and I were once
A garden of unfinished springs,
Where every petal leaned toward tomorrow,
Where laughter climbed the walls
Like ivy melting in the sunlight- touch of wounds!
You were the moon over my tides,
The flame beneath my winter,
The sacred ache I wore
like rubies around my throat.
Yet you left—
With the grace of a thief,
With the pride of a king,
With the calm of one
Who never knew the value
of what was held.
Yet I let you go-
With the grace of a cursed witch stuck in her castle,
With the pride of an independent soul,
With the calm of an elegant woman who knew what she has lost and what she can hold.
Oh, had you stayed,
The nights would have sung for us.
I would have dressed in crimson delight,
You would have crowned me with dawn,
And we would have danced
Until sorrow forgot our names,
Until sparrows chanted farewell.
But now,
The corridors echo my breath.
The mirrors carry your absence.
The stars whisper accusations
across their silver linings and they advocate for trials and tribulations.
What went wrong?
Why was I distracted?!
What went wrong?!
Why were you unsure of holding the sacred?!
Tell me, beloved,
Do you feel the burden of your footsteps?
Do your hands ever remember
the softness they abandoned?
Do your lips still taste auburn blood?!
Do they remember the sweet taste of my tongue?!
For I remain here—
Not broken,
But risen strangely beautiful
from the ruins of everyone’s leaving.
Every departure curves a storm within me,
My soul.
Every departure architects a memory lane –
So strong!
I would draw a portrait from it and hang it on the wall of heaven!
And still, somewhere beyond pride,
Beyond regret,
Beyond the arrogance of farewell,
Beyond the tragic loss,
I love you.
I still love you-
Your fragrance,
Your soul.
©® Farheen Akter Bhuian Nancy
Timestamp: 5.41 pm, Tagar