The Moment

My messages

Our messages

It's subtly shy

how it went from

Stay well, to Good Night to Good Morning

Three years, each Night

I found you questioning

"If you write it everyday, you have lost it"

I have tasted the doom, I have tasted the lasts

I have tasted the sudden switch offs

I have tasted the subtle goodbyes

I have known the uncertainty of tomorrow

Today, Tomorrow, Overmorrow

It's not about you,

It's about me- who will take care of thee

I might loose my sight

Or my brain at that

Who's gonna say my good goodbye to you

The unsaid words will scratch my brain

With regret

Regret of

Not writing to you enough

And in turn not loving you enough at all