Love, In The Time Of Cancer Poem by Irfan Habeeb A M K

I may have months to live
She sighed and looked at the bulb
The specks is still there
As they were counting the
Days like borrowed coins.

She don't wanted to listen
To the words of truth
She hoped to breath
And counted on him

He didn't promised love
But his presence enough
But where is he?
The tea has gone cold
Since he has came this far.

In the ward,
Others were vanished and she
Stayed there quite,
Writing letters to noone
To kept it under her pillow

When he opened the door
To her closed eyes
He smiled at her face
And took the letter under pillow

'I wrote this when you were sleeping
because you listen better
when you don't look at me.

I was scared of your eyes
asking me to stay
when even my body
is packing things quietly.

I didn't fight hard
not because I didn't love you
but because pain already
took enough space.

If I go first
please don't call it strong
or fate
or god's plan.
Call it unfinished'

He read it twice,
missed a line,
read again.

Her hand was still warm
for reasons no one explains.

He put the letter back
not exactly where it was,
sat there
till the nurse cleared her throat
like time reminding him
to leave.

The tea stayed cold.
It stayed that way.