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Mess

“I wish I could leave you, my love, but, my heart is a mess.”

I can’t get these lyrics by Prateek Kuhad out of my head.

Honestly, now, it’s making a mess up there.

I am tired of looking at your t-shirt in my wardrobe now.

But, I can’t bring myself to either wear it or throw it.

Too many memories, you know.

I’d promised myself I’ll stop writing about you.

I had. Until today when I again saw the t-shirt and those lyrics were on my lips like a chant.

“I wish I could leave you, my love, but, my heart is a mess.”

The t-shirt still lies there, I’m writing about you again and the lyrics don’t seem to leave me, yet.

Neither does your scent from the t-shirt.

Nor do the memories.

 
 
 

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