Umbrella

By Keerthana Sujith

My shoulders finally feel light, 

but my heart is now heavy with the promises of what could have been.

The sweet lies we told each other in the false comfort of privacy,

in the comfort of playing a game of ‘house’. 

Even after building up all the walls, and windows, 

somehow neither of us noticed the roof was missing. 

Maybe we did, and just convinced ourselves it was a sunroof, 

that we were simply sleeping under the stars, peaceful yet vulnerable. 

And then came the pouring rain. Didn’t you love the rain?

But there I was, covering what we had built all by my lonesome,

because when I turned to you, motioning you to join me,

clutching onto all my hopes with dripping fingers,  

You stood there; unmoving, unwilling.  

because you had decided it would be easier to use an umbrella.

But only for you, the umbrella had no room for two.

You see, using an umbrella lets you leave the house. 

And when I saw you holding the handle, sheepishly trying to hide it from me, 

I knew that the image I had created of you was nothing but a farce,

in truth, you were just a reflection upon the rising water of our living room floor,

But how was I to know that?

As the water rose, I knew this time,

that my words would not let me keep you. 

That you were never mine to plead with, 

oh, but how I tried. How I tried to keep you.

You, who haven’t an honest bone in your body,

You, who never act with the same conviction 

with which you would drown your words in.

You who chose the umbrella over me. 

By Keerthana Sujith