Y is for Yellowed Diary
In the dark corners of my room, hidden beneath those old
treasure chests
Carefully hidden from the prying eyes, safely tucked in a
faraway corner
Is a yellowed diary which holds my heart in pieces that you
left me with.
It holds the love I had for you, with all the dreams we had
seen together.
Some fragments of broken promises and some of false hopes.
Those pages witnessed all that we had been through shedding copious
tears with me each night
When you find do hold it with all the love for it is fragile
like the old memories it holds
Flip pages with care not to tear any more than the shreds it
already is in.
Slowly turn to the last page to read my last words:
Every night I stare at a star
studded sky wondering what’s in store for me. I try to connect the dots and
form a picture only to realise some of them are missing. Someone once told me
every time I shed a tear a twinkling star is born and when I will connect them
I will be able to witness the journey of my life. Does that mean every time my
heart broke a star fell down? Maybe, because that explains the missing dots so
well.
