Closure is like a cobweb we jump in , to feel good.
It's still there somewhere, in the depths of our memories,
Like a trapped person struggling to reach the surface,
Our demons trying​ to haunt us on a lonely Monday night!

I can still feel you playing with my hair as i ride my bike,
But knowing it's just the wind ,disappoints the old lover in me.
You too might be listening to that mix tape i once made for you,
Thinking​ "damn! He really did loved me " but now it's too late.

I still pretend you are waiting for me in that park ,
Where the evenings came to hear you laugh.
Finding the depth of our names​ etched on that old
wooden bench where we kissed , i still wait for you.

Now everyone tries to read my face when they talk about you,
No one knows the depth where i hid you, not even me.
You can be somewhere deep in my silent memories,
Or like a severed vein spill blood whenever i touch you.

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