She can't miss him

It was one of the nights when she would have shunned a Club for a Diner
It was one of the nights when dancing did not excite her
Just one of those nights when she felt alone with so many at a party
One of the nights when Alcohol failed to make her happy


She was sure she did not miss anyone,
I mean, she should not.
They did not deserve her and everyone told her to listen,
But like a typical girl, she would not.


It had been a long time since she thought of him..

or how he was the biggest fan of her unconventional behaviour,

how he loved her feet and would take her feet's pictures,
and lately a girl told her "men kiss feet of those who they love"
and I am sure it would have pinched her...


or anything about you like her home in your arms,
happiness in your voice, competence in your charm,
your admiration of her craziness,
or the nice things that u had once said,
your faith in her that she did not desert,
her faith in you that u never kept.


And there is a view of her Moon from the top floor,
its her only solace in such times and sucha place,
She doesnot know what type is it of “such times”
But there is little poignancy in these times
That takes her back to the old happy times
When she was not alone even when she literally was
She had unstoppable smile that she could not get rid of
And she dedicated all the songs to someone
And those songs now being played r realization that ‘they’ could be undone


She had her weird ways, she played her little games,
She would not express what she felt and they would not wait,
Then she would feel its right to heal her attachment with time,
instead of running after and being part of the chase,
And so she preferred to be as fresh as ice and as cold as she was before,
But I think times like these kind of abraded her almost healed wounds,
And she danced and smiled but thought about all the could-s and would-s that didn’t come true,
but with time, She has mastered the Art of Letting Go,
Cuz according to her, a truly good man can not be blown.


now she sits with *a lot of pretty boys she calls friends* sipping whiskey,
Pulls out a napkin and starts sub-consciously scribbling..
“I am sitting, thinking of what we could have been,
So should I start a storm till it brings you to me..”