Colours of Love: Pink

You carved little hearts out of the cement,

and I laid down the foundation of the road.

We paved the path together, and now you repent

for creating with me, your house and my humble abode.


Our hearts, which were once whole, are now empty with agony,

I forwent my religion and worshipped you like my God, now was it such blasphemy?

You left my home in the middle of the night, and I still wait for you by the balcony,

I once paid your rent in the currency of love,

and you left me the moment I went bankrupt.

I am now the beggar with only a humble abode to offer; oh, what an irony!


Pink was the colour of the sky when I first saw your face

and the colour of your lips when you asked me for a dance with such grace.

Pink was the colour of my cheeks when you held me close in your embrace

and the colour of your nose when you revealed your story, and I enveloped you like lace.

Pink was the colour of your fingers when you played our music at the slowest pace

and the colour of my eyes when you told me that you needed space.

And now you cross me on the streets and turn the corners

as if I meant nothing more than a stranger on the road.

And I’m still standing on the same little cement hearts under the same pink sky.

My cheeks still adorn the pink blush you left in your wake

as if waiting for you to realize that maybe I was not just a mistake.

You promised me champagne lies and left them broken,

and the cement hearts are now cracked open.


They bleed magenta and stain your soles

as you stride across the path and leave behind your footprints.

Maybe I was searching for my mates in the wrong souls,

but I fell for you under the pink sky, and now my body needs splints.

But you’ve already turned the corner,

and I was just a stranger on the road.


Someday I will give up being the only mourner

and finally, return to my humble abode.

I will hold all the pink in my heart once again,

and maybe someday, I’ll be able to reign in my pain.

I will close the door to my balcony and throw away the key;

this time, I will not be waiting for someone else to set me free.


I will fill in the cracks in the little hearts with stardust

until they are healed enough to tell apart love from lust.

I made some gullible choices in the prime of my adolescence,

and I took responsibility when I paid the price.

But you broke my rose-tinted glasses once,

and I’ll be damned if I let someone walk out on me twice.


Written by Khushi Sarwa for MTTN

Edited by Aditi Atreya for MTTN

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