Azure...A collection of emotions

Mailbox

Half the poems I think of writing will never be written.

Half the love I hold in me will never be shared, to anybody will never be given.

                      There were words in me-

phrases lit by the soothing moonlight,

my poems that spoke of you were filled with summer delight.

But then you painted my world in hues of black and blue.

The green landscapes are now under the spell of an eternal winter night.

There are places I didn't know existed in me, for earlier I was brimming with joy; 

and now all I am is, empty.

With the swirls of smoke filling the room and the ashes falling off a dying cigarette comes the aura of 

the barbaric nostalgia.

Takes away pieces of me in little quantities; good or bad

each time leaving me little more empty.

Your memory keeps playing like a broken record, cassette full of dangerous memories.

Each night that I spend with my tears is a lifetime in itself.

And the voices I hear that come from beneath my bed, are not demons outside;

but they are the demons in my head.

                                 You left me alone when I needed you the most, in a grandevous mockery.

I loved you too much. Way too much that I was consumed in the vacuum we shared.

I guess the abundance of love you got has abated the very emotion of love in you,

and my love for you has died in it's own too much!

                               All that lies today with me is an old rusty mailbox , full of memories

that screams in pain with every movement of the hinge joint;

 as the reckless winter wind sneers at it in disdain...