Farewell, My Love

By Kriti Arora

The clouds bleed tears of ecstasy. Or perhaps it’s tears of longing. How would I, a shell of a human being, know? Droplets of a divine liquid kiss the earth as they fall. Parting is such sweet sorrow. 

I dance with the entity in the mirror. I twirl them around my hallway of anguish and desire. The chandelier that hangs from the ceiling holds all my patience. Soon enough, it will shatter. 

Shards and shards of glass and crystal will line the very hallway down which we danced and sang. The places that your feet caressed will be crimson with the blood of your demons. 

The constellations on your flesh outshine the ones in the dark expanse of the sky above us. I trace them with my fingertips. You feel the burn of my touch, a bittersweet reminder that we’re here on borrowed time. Soon enough, the sand will run out. 

The pearls of your eyes carry every moment that we spent together. Every last thing about you is seared to the back of my brain. We embrace, one last time, like parting lovers do. Declarations of “I love you” are exchanged, but, deep in our hearts, we both know that we’re lying. We know that we’ll never meet again, for happy endings are merely fiction.

Endings are not poetic. The blood and the gore weren’t symbolic or moving until you worked your magic with words, until you made it out to be. Think of all the lies you wrote. They will soon be blown wide open. Think of all the hearts you imbued with delusive hope. They will shatter. Because the world is a fool’s paradise, and it is time that you shuffle off this mortal coil and start seeing the world for what it truly is. 

By Kriti Arora