the night grows on
as minutes burn to hours
I lie in my bed
curled in the sheets
that was once ours

the matted off-white blanket
the stains on the pillows
remind me just how
inconsolably incomplete
I am

like frozen ashes
your smell from the covers
slowly replaces
the air in my lungs
filling me, killing me

our poor dear love
once groped for life
its remnants 
linger now
like breaths of a pierced dove
on the verge of extinction 

out the window
the moon’s beautifully alone
shades of soft and sombre
as always

it craves for more 

draped in melancholia
just like that shiny ball
I have 
nowhere to go
but lie in my bed
and think about how

how we
became a thing of the past
and there shall we lie buried
till the end of time
till the end of us


Asha Seth