Winter.

by Author

I tried to stitch myself into
it, but nothing held.
I am okay. It’s just that before
felt like a million rainbows,
superimposed over each other.
And i linger, as if still waiting
for them to magically reappear.

It was this hour, just as early
darkness fell, that you would come
to me. With your clarity, and your
carefree-ness. Stepping into the
wall i’d built. Slowly. And steadily.

I am okay. It’s just that i have been
impatient. Very much. I thought
i knew everything you didn’t tell,
and understood everything you did.
And i believed things will be fine,
with time. Silly, silly girl.

What is can be as elusive as
what is not. Both beguile, and
neither stays. Or sticks. I am lost
in this transition.
From what we were, to what we
are, to what we will be.

It is winter here.
And unquiet.

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