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Grief Is Simply Love With Nowhere To Go.

By Vanshika Gupta


The thing I remember,

it was the last day of November.

I was holding her

as the nights got colder.

I grew older.

It's what I remember.


The evening was spent as I meander

through the dull night of November,

watching the city lights glimmer,

the darkness grew creepier.

It's what I remember.

I was strolling across the river,

when I saw her sitting beneath the Alder.

My heart began to stir.

The wintry silence folded in fleece fur.

The thing I remember,

it was the last day of November.

I was wrapped in my sherd,

my mind was all scattered.

Then I notice her.

In that cold weather,

everything turned to look strangely better.

It's what I remember.

It was the cold night of November.


She looked at me, dear,

I felt that it was her who had appeared,

that God truly has answered

all of my prayers.

The funeral was just a nightmare.

The thing I remember,

it was the last day of November.

I heard the wind whisper

“Forever”.

Through my tears and laughter,

I swear I saw my happily ever after.

It's what I remember.

It was the cold night of November.


The clouds started to shower,

and she seemed to disappear.

It appeared like a happy hour

got stirred with the eternity of the rush hours.

She was that sunflower,

that got buried under the winter shower.

The thing I remember,

it was the last day of November.

She was nowhere to be discovered,

I was standing still right there.

That winter,

I felt my heart getting colder,

I knew I lost all my power,

the rest of my life would be a rain shower.

It's what I remember.

It was the cold night of November.


I was standing there, in need of a respirator,

with my clothes all wet, my eyes all water.

My heart was beating faster.

It was the worst thing that I’ve ever feared.

The thing I remember,

it was the last day of November.

I was ready to leave it all behind,

I would have followed her with all my life.

She couldn't be there.

I was all alone and scared.

My hands both flared.




It's what I remember.

There was no one there,

just the memories we shared.

Death caught us unprepared,

If it hadn't been her, I wouldn't have cared.

It's what I remember.

It was the cold night of November.


I told her if she took forever,

I’d wait for her forever.

I pleaded with God to send her sooner,

to help me put all my pieces together.

The thing I remember,

it was the last day of November.

My heart had been severed.

I recall standing fractured,

mumbling words my soul fettered.

So much had to be answered,

so much had to be heard.

That night of winter,

All I wanted was her,

her arms around my shoulder.

I needed to hold her tighter.

She promised we belonged together.

That night of November,

I was left all hurt and clattered.

Her memory was the rapture.

If I couldn't be close to her,

I settled with those of her.

It's what I remember.

It was the last day of November.



By Vanshika Gupta




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