August—
a month when summer leaves with a gentle goodbye,
and so did you.
I wish I was good enough to keep you forever,
but what’s written cannot be changed.
My August sweetheart—
how beautiful was the day I met you,
you felt like the missing puzzle piece of my life.
I still wonder why our paths crossed,
a question that lingers in me with no answer.
I remember the night you laughed and said,
“if it’s a bad ending, then it’s not the end, silly.”
But I don’t know if ours was good or bad—
I only know it ended.
Just like summer, you left
only difference is,
summer comes back,
and you never will.
_shradha