top of page

The Fault In Our Stars

We’d been doing this since a long time,

Me, writing poems,

You, listening,

Under the blanket of stars,

Each night,

Like a ritual.

What has changed today is,

Either the stars are dimmer,

Or the poems sadder,

Or the fact that,

You started writing,

Me, listening.

Each night,

Like a ritual.

Wondering what changed us,

The nights,

The poems,

Or the stars.

Either yours,

Or mine.

 
 
 

Recent Posts

See All
Can I Come Back To You?

Can I come back to you, Wounded from the battles, I fight silently in my head, Scratched all over with scars my thoughts cause, Breathless yet with my heart beating too fast, The same one you broke on

 
 
 

Comments


words for the day

bottom of page