reminisce

I sit on the cold floor of my sunless room.
Staring at its sepulchral walls, I wonder if you have been reminiscing, like me.
I hear a chippering laughter of a girl in the distance. I miss being that girl, so naïve, unworldly.
Frail.
I trace a finger across the broken skin of my face; my skin feels extrinsic, alien. Maybe it hasn't had your touch in so long that it has forgotten who it really belongs to.
I think about the fallen auburn leaves I saw this morning. They reminded me of how I fell for you, and faded. Now the memories of myself are smirched by yours enough to make me forget who I was.
All I want now is for people to never love someone to the brink of losing their own hue of gold.
~shreya.