I have four sketches pinned on my board
And three photographs, and one birthday message
Remnants of a time long past; relics, dare I say
Taking me back to a place I no more remember
A chocolate wrapper is stuffed deep within my wallet
And a crumbling note, and a beautiful face
And a train pass, a wristband, a business card
A treasure greater than all the valuables it resides with
My closet hides inside itself, a jar of hearts
My books weigh down on a letter
My drawer is brimming with reminiscent souvenirs
My heart, full of paradoxical desires
Life, like literature, is a free verse of its own
Lacking in rhyme and reason, devoid of pattern and poise
A journey and a destination, all at once; synchronized chaos and calm
An assortment of seemingly disconnected fragments
Which when followed, bring you as close as they take you apart
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