In the court of love, they prosecute lovers,
Much like Reality, they don't question the heartbreaker or the culprit, they blame the victim.
They ask for proof, of affection, of care, of effort, Commitment,
They ask for safety measures that were taken to prevent the heartbreak, they look down upon those who plunged into the ocean of love, without a lifeboat.
The defendants are made to relive the excruciating pain, they are made to scratch the wounds with salty fingers, the sight is unbearable.
Last week they asked me to occupy the witness box, they asked me about you, why I trusted you, why I let my guard down, why I let my soul naked, why I let you in again, they asked me to defend my case.
I read them my poetry, words that were stained with your name. My paper cried, my metaphors screams, and the verses joined hands to fight for me. After a few horrifying hours, they let me go, I walked free. Innocent and not guilty.
I have heard, that sometimes, their hearts turn kind, that sometimes, heartbreakers find themselves in prison. They told me that You'll be allowed to keep one and only one souvenir of the outside world, the one that I decide for you.
I hope these combination of words forever remind you of your actions. I hope they remind you of my victory. My love wants you to live in ignorance, but the madness of my poetry won't let you forget me.
©sakshi1099
S