Mismar by Pratishtha Kharbanda

Mismar (Urdu) n. Demolished

you left me like a storm leaves a city :
in ruins.
and all i could do was
gape at the damage
in the eerie silence
of your absence.

so how am i supposed
to believe him
when he tells me
he loves me?
his kisses remind me
of your favorite song
but his love tastes
like the red velvet shake
we never ordered
because you hate
strawberries.

i am your aftermath,
and you took with you,
most of me.
what’s left
is the rubble,
because now i
drink my coffee
in your favourite
mug and
i haven’t washed
your shirt
since you left,
so it still
smells like you.

you were my timeline,
and this is the after.
but he came
out of nowhere
and claimed to be the
renaissance.

so how am i supposed
to let you go
and believe him
when he says,
he’ll stay
when all i know
is that
‘cross my heart
and hope to die’
means nothing,
anymore?

i’m stuck
in a time-machine
and as much as i want
it to take me ahead,
i go back,
in medias res
and in your arms
(a budding whirlwind)
i find peace
in my
destruction.