slowly getting tied in one knot,
not knowing where one ends,
and where the other starts.
It felt like God's gift sometimes,
soft, warm, full of light…
Sometimes like a silent breaking,
happening without any sound.
Maybe that is our story's sadness,
not that we went apart,
but that we never learned
how to say a proper goodbye.
No last words, no closing door,
no turning back for one final look…
just her, walking her way
and me losing mine quietly.
Now we live in different worlds,
like strangers with the same memory,
still holding something true,
something that refuses to leave.
It stays there…
between what was and what could be,
a story not finished,
a feeling still left to write.
By
Sanji-Paul Arvind
**Do not judge my life based on my poems; My Poems and my life are 2 different things.
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