When you disappear in your own world, take no one.

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Hurt.

You can’t feel,
And so you won’t know.
You have hurt me in ways you will never know.

You did what you had to do.
And went your own way.
But what about the things within me,
which were left unsaid.
They bring me hate and pain
Which I do not want inside of me.
They make me want revenge,
Which is not how I was supposed to be.
I do not want to be a monster,
And so I want you to know.
You have hurt me in ways you will never know.

The Last Glimpse

I am leaning against a tree.
He is standing against the wall.
I see him through the glass.
He is speaking to someone on call.

I try to hold my blink,
To not to miss his smile.
But the way he shines
Is enough to make me blind.

I take a final glimpse,
And store it in my mind.
One last image of his,
For a memory, I can call mine.

His Shirts.

Out of all those, I remember only a few.
Good old days reflecting memories anew.

The first – purple, light purple!
Then black, with white checks, I guess.
And brown too, bark-like-brown.

Last but not the least, sky-blue.
And then purple again,
because that’s the one in which you were mostly around.