The Cold Storage
It’s been Eons since we met, dear fellow.
How we played it so smoothly?
I know, for it rests in my inner crept too.
It’s been a while I strolled down the path
Maybe oblivion followed me like a shadow
or Maybe I had appreciated the natural halt
The stars still twinkle the same way
but now I can turn a blind eye
The monsoon breeze isn’t able to brush my skin
And the mammoth skyscrapers standstill
The strangeness of the touch makes way for numbness
Rose petals dead between the thickest of the books
The brewed coffee, my companion for the dusk
The clinking of this keyboard equals the ethereal saga
One that has been buried deep for all these years
I have learned to giggle in-between moments
Hearing instrumental music does narrow the gaps
My cheeks don’t turn wet when gloominess eclipses
My diary entries love the void
For words kill the real essence
Metaphors hardly analogous to the emotions
The smell of cologne reminds me that instances do vanish in thin air
I firmly hold onto the smile
that I have acquired on this voyage
The polaroids have been a part of the cold storage
My phone’s memory, reminiscent of my memories.
