Skipped

Image

she was yet to find a drug,

as potent as

his favourite song on her playlist..

Killing her softly,

every time she went for it..

Ubiquitous naked memories of him,

mocked every corner of her brains..

with closed eyes she could see,

his long fingers

Tap dancing rhythmically,

the buttons of piano in her head..

A piece of memories,

woven into a thread of colourful dress..

His was the voice,

that she chose every time to play..

Jealousy, hatred and love,

all pretended to be friends.

mood swings were always

there to be blamed..

Frown took over pink lips,

and her smile faded.

when she pressed her younger self,

deep down once again..

“never shall I ever”

she reminded herself,

not to play that song again..

And his song kept shuffling,

being skipped every now and then

yet never once erased..

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