Dead at times


Tonight I drink
Drink to a man who is whole but not complete
He gives out his all but none at all
You crave more of him to numb the ache
When he is gone, you feel him beside you
The man who holds the power to build you up or break you down

Tonight I smoke
While, there is a knock on the door
I know its life
Routine is in its bones
With a baggage of past,future and present
It greets me with an ink and parchment
The other hand has a gun with six rounds
You bleed words tonight
You bleed the ache in your bones
I smile
Thinking, what a game played
Either way,
Be dead
Life replied,
My love, even beating hearts and breathing lungs are dead at times…


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