20 Days

I often go back to the time
When we sat on the staircase outside late one spring night,
When I threw my bitter resentments at you,
My despondency wrapped in I-hate-you’s.
But you hung on my acidic words,
Promising to make things right.
Do you remember, when we had our last 20 days ahead of us?
Do you remember your heartening words?

I often go back to the time,
Of our inhibited talks.
Your festering fears.
My profound apprehensions.
Our little ice cream walks.
Do you remember those casual saunters?
If only they lasted a little bit longer.

I often go back to the time,
When you took my hand,
And waltzed me around.
When everything else,
Evanesced in the background
A moment which passed before I could savor it.
Do you remember that song
Which suddenly became my favorite?

Oh how it killed me to watch it all fade,
But all I had,
Were those last 20 days.
Until you decided
To drop the masquerade.

-SR

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