Half-Read Book

I feel like a half-read book placed near the window at dawn

Like wind is howling on the unread pages

Turning and flipping them in anguish

Like it’s refusing to be read

I feel like a half-read book

And the reader had stopped reading after the chapter in which my heart was broken

and what happened in the next chapters always remained unacknowledged.

I feel like a half-read book

And I want you to come and read me again from the chapter where you have left

But now it has been a while and

I have started smelling like rust hibernating on the shelf all this while

 But I am afraid that your fingers might tear those untouched, rusted corner of my pages

I feel like a half-read book

All the metaphors of love are faded

All the semicolons holding us half-alive are faded

The universe which I have personified for you is faded

Just the full stops are clearly visible like a big black evil hole waiting to gulp down the story.

Will you tear those pages and crumple them?

Or you might make paper planes out of them

And see whether it will land on my love or crash like my frictionless heart

Who falls for you every time it felt you.

I feel like a half-read novel

The unread chapters will find its solace

If you could just keep a flower in between the pages

So the book and flower would wither together.