Attained from the wind, was a flying picture of you
And as obscure as it may seem, I was there too
I whispered “Where did this come from?”
And as soon as those words left my lips,
I felt a teardrop fall onto my head, as another picture fell
The photograph was ripped and smudged, but I could still see the faces
Your smile, so big I couldn’t see your eyes
Much like now
The tears drown the place where there used to be a beautiful blue
Leaving your grasp, out of the window, was yet another photograph.
This time a rose without its petals.
You must have been playing he-loves-me, he-loves-me-not with a loss as a result.
But it’s too hard to watch you in this melancholy
So, up the stairs I went.
Fourth door, to the right, I heard the sounds of your beautiful voice, though it was muffled.
“I loved him so much” were the words I could barely make out.
But these alone heartened me to continue my footsteps.
Opening the door was a mistake.
Regrettably, I carried on walking into the cold room.
Windows open, eyes shut.
Her face lay in the comfort of her pillow, as I rest my hand on hers.
Hoping for the long-awaited embrace.
She unexpectedly consents to my unspoken request.
Her shirt is soaked, but neither of us pay attention,
And I hold her forever
I stared into her dampened but bright eyes
And took a new picture of them with mine.
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