You trickle into my life like rain in November
and imbibe a part of my soul.
You take a hold of it, you morph into it
sometimes you call it home.
But remember, when you leave me,
and I say when and not if
you take that particular part of my soul with you
that’s how it is, call me crazy, condescending or childish
the way you take that part of my soul,
that shining shield to match your armour of gold,
it depends on how you leave me,
on the reason the salt flows from my eyes to the sea.
You might rip it away forcibly
or shatter the part itself as you hammer it away, while cracking and chipping the rest
or I may give it to you willingly, biting down the pain it causes me
for I have to let you go
A new part will grow in its wake, as it always does
the essence of time will heal the cracks, as it always does
That is the reason why my soul is juxtaposition of asymmetry