“I had a deep attraction towards your wounds, for I thought of them as my missing part.”

While writing these words, your memory is breathing in my eyes. I can see you standing in front of me smiling, hiding your pain behind it… yes, I can sense it even being millions of miles away, from you.

Remember, when you weren’t letting me the dark side of your life and I kept pushing you to open up?… do you remember that?… I do remember!

O You! You were so innocent to think so that I will start hating you for your scars just the way it happens around; but, believe me, It was your wounds that brought me much closer to you. See, I am wearing your scars in my words, now, for your wounds gave me a heartache that made me a muse—broken muse, who when shattered, became more powerful and majestic. See, can you see it? My pen is moving with vigor because you are its topic… it loves to write about you…and you know? Now, I am not the only one who remembers you but in my words, hundreds of hearts remember you, get acquainted with you. You have become eternal in my ink, eternal in my words.

O you! When I owned you, I owned you with all your broken pieces & scars because your wounds weren’t yours, they were a part of me—my missing part.