It was pouring outside.
The day you said you loved me.
The day the streets were empty.
The day my mother had warned me of an overcast thunderstorm.
Loudly, as the sky rumbled.
Quietly, as I listened to my erratic heartbeat in my ears.
Your hands were enclosed around mine.
Your eyes urgently waiting for a response.
I knew I loved you too, after accidentally spilling the three words that were making my chest heavy on the day we had our first argument and hot tears were streaming down my cheeks.
I loved you. I love you. Maybe I never will.
My phone rang and my mother asked for me to come home.
The hurricane was coming.
There was a quiet chaos.
The day you said you have to leave.
The day the debris of the town was the murk on the streets.
The day after the hurricane had finally passed.
This hurricane wasn’t the same as the last.
It was wilder. Unpredictable.
The one no one had warned us about.
It was the turmoil of emotions in my chest, reduced to emptiness.
I had so many butterflies in my stomach that you ripped out and tossed away carelessly.
I think I’ll mourn the death of those butterflies the most.
Beautiful, dainty, colourful little butterflies that crumbled into grey dust.
It was the hurricane that ripped their homes apart.
It was the lightning that burned them.
My soul is now just debris.
Heavy and empty.
Scattered and destroyed.
I’ll learn to live with these ruins.
I’ll learn to live in this town.
Even though you killed everything inside, I’m still fighting to keep myself alive.
But I’ll never be the same.
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Tamarind Fall is The Mumbai Art Collective’s Poet in Residence . She likes to write about everything, especially the universe, spilled ink, shattered glass and broken hearts. The world is always an inspiration she can’t get enough of. She’s pursuing quantum mechanics but in her free time, she also likes to do photography, play games and read books.