Echoes In The Kitchen

By Vanshika Gupta

In his crisp blue shirt, a tie neatly placed,

He leaves at dawn, as first light is traced.

A weary smile, a fleeting goodbye,

I linger in shadows, watching him fly.

The door latches softly, and silence grows,

Once bright home now faintly glows.

In shadowed halls where echoes creep,

Love unravels, thread by thread, so deep.

Nights in our kitchen, candles burning low,

Jazz in the air as we swayed soft and slow.

It felt like forever— his arms held me tight,

Now only ghosts keep me warm through the night.

Alone by the counter— two plates, one fate,

Saturday silence, unbearably weight.

Laughter has faded, replaced by this ache,

As love slowly withers, its essence erased.

Even in warmth, the distance remains,

A chasm of silence too vast to contain.

Night after night, we lie side by side,

Staring at the ceiling, drifting like tides.

Time spin its web, both tender and stern,

A lesson in love I never quite learned.

With every goodbye, I still choose to stay,

Tracing the footprints time brushed away.

Years of trying, yet wounds never mend,

Each moment a question— will this ever end?

Did I give him enough, or deepen his pain?

Unanswered, they linger, whispered in vain.

To sever the thread is to shatter the past—

How do I stand when shadows hold fast?

Perhaps in another life, stars realign,

And he stays, untouched by the hands of time.

But here and now, as love slowly fades,

I treasure our remnants— each glow, each shade.

For deep in my heart, love's mark will remain,

A cherished echo of our dance in the rain.

By Vanshika Gupta