खत

 

I want to write a letter.

A letter to every single piece of soul that I've ever crossed paths with, to let them know how in the slightest way they poisoned me, poison isn't always lead to death you know, at least not on the outside. I want to let them know how heavily they've touched me,, just like the butterfly who sits on the tip of our fingers yet shades its tint of beautiful color leaving a mark diminishing in seconds but giving joy of a lifetime. People these days, are lost in the orange circles, their life constrained in swipes that we embrace thinking they've gone too far, forgetting that the farness began from our hearts. Looking behind and thinking "those were the days, they've changed" not realizing the fact we are the ones who changes in the first place 

I want to write a letter

No matter how cringe it may sound, as this one

The more I contemplate doing things, the less interesting they become or rather they seem far to be done right now, so is texting you, it has always been so, but it didn't matter then, not that you are not around ...

The urge to be standing on the aisle with people beaming at me from all rounds and corners of my life Iife, I want you to be standing there, cause for me to be climbing up here you were a stair without whom the gap of reaching would never be lept. 

I try to find synonyms to express my feelings, cause all of them to feel the same,

there's sorrow in leaving but joy in healing 

these a gladness in exploring but numbness in abandoning

All o these come to an end when a string breaks, knowingly or unknowingly in the aesthetics of life, which we acknowledge too late when they are on their bon voyage.

Hope you save the letters, until you find another, or write one to me cause the longing is the same as the last weather.