The clock hands were locked on the last moment of your pr

The clock hands were locked on the last moment of your presence.. as if time, too, had been a partner in our death
Do you remember? You said that love is a shelter;
But now, the walls of this shelter have collapsed on my head
And I, beneath heaps of "longing," have forgotten how to breathe
Your voice… that vague music that whispered in my ear, has now turned into a silence that has nested in the ceiling of the house.. a silence that no matter how much you speak again, it won't break, because you are no longer the one I knew..
Whatever we wrote, whatever we read, whatever we built; all of it, in a single blink, turned to smoke and went to the sky..
I still pass through streets that have memorized our footsteps, the cobblestones scream beneath my feet, and the trees of the alley, when I pass by them, drop their yellow leaves onto my shoulders as a gesture of condolence..
Everyone knows you are not here..

I still call all of this absence a big lie..
But when I wake up, it is the same darkness again, and the same empty place of you that, like an old wound, reopens every day..
Love was a strange gamble.. I bet all that I had; my heart, my poems, even my silence…
And you, with a simple "goodbye," left the table..

Now I am left only with a piece of me that went with you, and a piece of you that has settled here, in my veins
Go, but know that no one, ever, will love you the way I loved you..
This hole will be healed neither by time, nor by forgetting..