I want you to know
tonight if I die in my sleep,
do not forget to switch the AC off tomorrow.
Bread, butter, jam will be on the table
and oh yes, keys in the hall.
I want you to know
tomorrow if I do not wake up,
Remember what is left of us is under the bed;
Photos, letters - memories and a whole lot.
Do not just leave me like any other day.
Coming back will be a discomfort.
I want you to know
tonight if you be more indifferent,
I would not mind.
I am used to your late night whispers,
pretensions conveniently termed 'office calls'.
You were never a good liar.
But, tomorrow I may just wake up
as if I have changed my mind
And burn this letter.
Its the hundredth time.
What you won't know is,
Like that piece of paper,
I have only dreamt of being read oneday.
There has never been a pulp fiction.
Perhaps there never will be.
SoUmY@
tonight if I die in my sleep,
do not forget to switch the AC off tomorrow.
Bread, butter, jam will be on the table
and oh yes, keys in the hall.
I want you to know
tomorrow if I do not wake up,
Remember what is left of us is under the bed;
Photos, letters - memories and a whole lot.
Do not just leave me like any other day.
Coming back will be a discomfort.
I want you to know
tonight if you be more indifferent,
I would not mind.
I am used to your late night whispers,
pretensions conveniently termed 'office calls'.
You were never a good liar.
But, tomorrow I may just wake up
as if I have changed my mind
And burn this letter.
Its the hundredth time.
What you won't know is,
Like that piece of paper,
I have only dreamt of being read oneday.
There has never been a pulp fiction.
Perhaps there never will be.
SoUmY@
Comments
Beautifully conjured. I have a soft corner for this kind of poetry, poetry that outs a weight on your heart and and brings a discordant unrest to your mind.
This piece resonates with my soul.
Loved it.
Beautiful!