SCRATCHING THE SCARS.

I placed my hands on my phone,
Covering the picture of you smiling on my wallpaper.
I couldn’t take any more pain impulse from its glare,
I wished I could remove it from there,
But my fingers tremble any time I dared.
Eyes glowed, and tears balanced,
The last of the trigger, the memories of when I took it,
They all rolled down my cheeks.

I scrolled down my contacts,
Through, I met your name,
And my favourite mark on the contact photo.
Looked at the last of our communication,
What happened that we lost connection?
How comes my network is full,
And I stand waiting for your call like a fool,
Yet I think you saved my name like a tool:
Or rather just another of your blacklisted crew.
It hurts, but a stuporous relapse of us is always a must.

As if torture is not enough,
Still scratched the scars from my hurt
Peeling out the fibrous eschars.
Through your messages,
I decompressed the pain from my heart.
Every love piece the brought piece,
Now distorting my peace, fragmenting the healing pieces.
Galloping in my congested heart,
My failed love bleeds and then I couldn’t breath
From the last of you statement,
I love you buy love ain’t made for us, please.

Nothing feels easy to delete,
Even my own life, I still feel weak.
Afraid to end and leave,
Hoping a seed of my love in you still lives,
And one day it will germinate,
Not only to grow leaves,
But also red roses- love and white peace breeds.
Meanwhile, my forward steps are halted,
My horizon love defaulted,
My focus on my phone,
Memories relapsing my crying tune tone.

ScratchingTheScars

2 comments

  1. You are always a motivation that rekindles the glowing splint that is almost dying.. my desire has always been to meet you but I’m afraid you have a very huge picture of whom I am yet I’m just a star in the day light-never useful.

    Liked by 1 person

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