Favourite things

 It's getting hard for me to write about

my favourite things without thinking
about you.
The favourite dress of mine, I have abandoned it in one corner of my cupboard. Sometimes I hear it whine when I choose some other dress.

The favourite pen, yes the one you gifted,
It's empty, perhaps there's no one to refill it.
It has bled all the love through my ink, now it only has to vacate grief emptied in it.
The first-ever book you gave me, I can't turn a single page without your emotions encased in it.

Sometimes I think why am I even keeping them to myself when it has no use. I then realise it makes me travel the memories within seconds where there's no destination ~ Infinite are my memories of you. 


I would go rhyming about our favourite flower, it was lively like me, softhearted like you and unique like us ~ perhaps a reason of our separated equation.


I found smile in simile, it turned out be an inversion, I wrote similes to find a smile in me.
I personified a metaphor,
I anaesthetized the anthesis of love.
I betrayed and broke their relationship.
Metaphors always loved similes
and I always loved you..

We were like the metaphors of love,
I smiled for a simile.
I never understood your inversion.
Anthesis finally showed me,
It was hate.
I anaesthetize

Sometimes I feel jealous of her,
when she comments on your post
but then I trust the trust I have in you.
You wouldn't love someone else.