I still remember the first poem I wrote,
Was it out of love or hate?
I don’t know,
I hated writing though,
Irrespective of what I wrote-
Class notes, assignments, time tables, to-do list, anything
I hated everything.
And yet, here I am,
Writing things everyday for you, about you,
Guess, something has changed in me now.
You left a hole in my heart,
That I am trying to fill with words, phrases, quotes, poems and “what we could have been” stories,
And even if I try my best I hardly succeed in it.
Writing about you is like taking morphine shots,
They numb my pain for a while but as it fades, I am left vulnerable.
Left vulnerable with your memories.

It wouldn’t be wrong to say,
That I am an addict now,
Writing is my addiction
Writing is my morphine shots,
They relieve me from you, my love.