“I miss you,” she said. “Then come here,” I yearned silently. Caress me. Cradle my head in your lap. Put me to sleep. You don’t understand when I wake up in the middle of the night; I struggle to find solace in my own head.

I long for you. I close my deteriorating eyes and drift into thoughts of you. I dwell. It leads me to deep valleys, bleak deserts, and hushed jungles.

I imagine what makes me sad. It takes me to realms where the withering of blossoming trees is a norm. Where the sun doesn’t shine anymore. Where the lamps struggle to justify their glow. Where nothing thrives. Where even the most enchanting scents fail to kindle joy within me.

I realize you have no ties to these worlds. You remain oblivious to the stinging pain in my eyes, a dilemma of whether to open them to agony or close them to see those dismal landscapes again.

My head craves the simple touch of your lips. Those cities we dream of exploring eagerly await the imprint of your beautiful feet alongside mine. I am on the verge of tiredness now while I search for you, trying to sleep.

I feel like a Kurta that’s waiting on the hanger while I wait for you to pick me up, keep me under the iron of your heart, and burn me to death.