By Akshara Harini Gande
I was dead with a body.
Pieces of me were broken and
it was you that stole them.
Pieces I adored the most.
Pieces that let me live a fantasy.
Pieces,
that gave me hope.
Must I lie and say,
It was never what it was?
I open the blinds and it’s not you I see,
but the lost pieces of me.
By Akshara Harini Gande
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