Dried petals

#27

today I find my feet for some unknown reason dragging me back to the old place I once owned. The one that witnessed a shattered promise of two broken beings, adorned with wet kisses and salty tears .
maybe they want me to recall the painful yet pleasurable sensation of a lost love that I once cherished.

cruel , right ?

the wooden door is as annoying as before , still cracks

at everybody's touch , only God knows how much I

hated it . somehow it reminded me of the fact

that you never belonged to me , for every time you

slowly walked out of it , to my ears it was screaming

' he's not yours ', Ironic , I know . 'Cause when

did we ever have the right to call others ours ?

the walls unlike the door have changed , their once

pale white colour turned to an ochre shade , like

that of flimsy pages with ripped ends that lie only

in those old romance novels that never failed at

catching my interest .

they push me to wonder , why did I willingly put

my beating heart in your frozen palm ?

was it the wild hurricane that swirled in your

ashy orbs , whenever your eyes pierced my

soul ? or was it the bitter taste of cigarettes

that hid in each nook of your chapped lips ?

no , I think it was the way your hands roamed

every inch of my body , screaming , crying ,

pleading , almost looking for a shelter .

Something I certainly didn't have .

my eyes catch a glimpse of my favourite thing

; the window . the window that was my source

of hope , for every time the ghosts of your

broken dreams come to hunt me down , the

lightning of the moon that peeked at me

through the glass made the nights bearable .

those lonely nights that I had to spend with

nothing but the coldness radiating from your

empty bedside as company .

there were times when I even questioned my

sanity , but the smell of smoke that always

lingered in the air for no more than three

minutes , was a proof of your existence .

again , my feet led me to the bathroom , and

without my realisation , my hand curled around

the doorknob and slowly opened it , to find you

lying in the bathtub . you looked so helpless ,

so vulnerable , but mostly you looked the

same , exactly as I left you . Just like that door .

A/N : ok , this definitely doesn't look nice , but smh I can't make it better

wattpad is acting crazy -.- . And yeah I'm not sure what to call this , 'cause it 

doesn't feel like a poem in my head . But do tell me what you think :)