This kind of desperation gets repetitive ,
and i forget the words i used to know ,
just to make more space for you,
and it overflows from between my lips,
and dribbles down my chin, to my pen ,
onto the letters i will never think to end,
you were the passing breeze ,
the humming sound of people ,
the touch and go motion of a lover ,
like sitting in a waiting room,
hoping you will finally find me.
"You" were the most beautiful once "dear solitude" .
You were no "him" no "her" ... you were my solitude _ . * series of unseen & unheard *
_|| HooR || .
PS:- I miss "Delhi"