They say time heals—
but time has hands that only take.
They took him.
Took the sound of his laughter,
the way he said my name like it meant something more,
like I mattered in a way only he could prove.

They took my person.

Saahil.

Say it.

Saahil.
Let the name fall like a stone in your throat.
Let it choke you like it does me
every single morning
I wake up in a world that forgot how to include him.

He wasn’t just my brother.
He was my shadow when I was lost,
my mirror when I forgot who I was,
my lighthouse when I stopped swimming.
And now—
there is no shoreline.
Just waves.

He was coloured ink on a book written in black.
He didn’t just live,
he bled beauty.
He was the kind of soul that made you believe
that maybe, just maybe,
God did make art sometimes.

He was the sound of my childhood.
The bruises on my knees from games that turned into wars,
the breathless laughter
after we swore we'd hate each other forever—
but never did.

He was warmth.
He was home.
He was both halves of my heartbeat.

And now I am just an echo.

Do you know what it is
to have a whole language with someone
and then suddenly go mute?
To lose not just a person
but the version of you
that only existed in their eyes?

I would burn this world to ash
just to feel the weight of his arm around my shoulders.
I would sell every sunrise
just to hear him argue with me again.

He was the cold side of the pillow,
the smell of morning coffee,
the breath before a laugh,
the silence after a song you didn’t want to end.

He was the last piece of chocolate
I would fight him for—
and now I’d give it up in a heartbeat
just to hear him call me dramatic one more time.

But all I have is memory.
And memory is a cruel, flickering god—
it shows me his face,
but never lets me touch it.

So I live in the past,
because that’s where he lives.
He exists in flashbacks now.
In ghost smiles.
In the empty space next to me at dinner.

But I swear this on my grief:
I will not let this world forget.
I will carry his name like a war cry.
I will tell his story until my voice gives out.
I will carve his name into every generation
that follows me.

And when they ask,
"Who was Saahil?"
I’ll say:

He was everything good,
and everything gone too soon.
He was loud love and loud life.
He was fire and water.
He was sunlight through cracked blinds
on the days I didn’t want to get out of bed.
He was the reason I believed in forever—
until forever changed its meaning.

So I’ll climb the highest mountain,
shatter my lungs into pieces,
and scream so loud the sky will split:

Saahil existed.
And he was an extraordinary man.
He mattered.
He still matters.
And if there is a heaven—
they are louder now.
Because he’s there.
And they know his name.

Saahil.
Say it.
Let it ache.
Let it live.
Let him live.

- s h a s -

If i falter at the alter - would it matter?
If my tears stained your perfect suit , would it matter?
If I bled on you from scars that you did not cause , would that be okay?
If my insecurities ruined your peace , would you make it better?
When my uglies show , would you stay or run?

- s h a s -

Is he worth fighting for?
I asked myself as I lay in bed , wiping away yet another tear that he caused.
Is he worth fighting for? I asked myself as I reminisced about how beautiful my reflection looked in his hazel brown eyes.
As i recall just how sincere my smile was  whilst laying in his arms , I began to feel goosebumps on my hands with every thought of his finger drawing art on my bare skin with his love as the paint.
Is he worth fighting for? I asked myself as I could hear his ' I love you ' In every gust of wind.
Is he worth fighting for? I asked myself one last time as i wiped away one more tear.
I muttered ' No he isn't ' and in that moment - My heart sank and every memory with him became more distinct than ever.
And i screamed in a euphoric state :

'  HE IS NOT WORTH FIGHTING FOR , HE IS WORTH GOING TO WAR FOR '

- s h a s -

Pathetic! Isn't it?
How the ongoing cycle of deceit and disappointment she still willingly hands herself over the moment an iorta of affection is shown?
Loneliness is a disastrous emotion , isn't it?
Is it loneliness or is she just yearning for a sprinkle of happiness?
Or maybe she still believes that her happily ever after is out there somewhere?
It is a game of ongoing hope and never ending chances.
Realise dear , Realise before it is too late.
Pain is infinite , love isn't.

- s h a s -

He had her feeling like a **** five minute smoke break.
He lit her up when she was cold , placed her between his lips and inhaled away all her pain.
It was all good and well , till she realised she wasn't the right brand.
He ashed her away and doused the spark he lit.
He dropped her to the ground and stomped on her , making sure there wasn't any sparks left.
But sadly , she is sitting in his packet , waiting to be ignited again.

- s h a s -

One cut , two cut , three cut , four.
Four cut , three cut , two cut , one.
She thought she was a magician , for she introduced silver to her skin and a red fountain would appear.
She thought that inflicting pain on herself will make it okay , because she for once was in control of how much pain she could feel.
Little did she know that every present cut is a reminder in the future that she wasn't strong enough.
A reason to cut oh she had enough.
But - A reason to stop ? She looked for in desperation.

Is it for attention ? She thought . Does she want the scars to be seen so she can thereafter be loved?
But , why does a cut need to drive people to love her? Was  she not enough without them?
She then realised :
The only love she needed was from herself.
The only saving she needed was from her inner demons>
The darkness can be driven out by her inner light.
She thereafter wore her scars as her armor.
A beautiful Zebra , she is.
Nobody was worth her pain , her tears.
She then decided to cut through her obstacles and mover forward not cut herself and move backwards.

- s h a s -

To spend a night with him would be marvelous , she thought.
No , no , don't get her wrong..Not for physical pleasures.
But rather to hear what calms his heart for a peaceful sleep , too see just how perfectly the covers  need to be before he finds comfort in them.
To hear what is his first thoughts in the morning,
To see how beautifully the suns rays kisses him Good morning,
To see all that he is before he becomes all that the world sees him to be.
For she needs to grasp and understand how she allowed herself to find love in another being such as himself.
Two hands , two eyes , a heartbeat - just like everyone else , yet what made him so special?
She knew she is giving him the opportunity to disappoint her the way everyone else did.
But why then did she allow herself to?
To spend a night with him would be marvelous.
You see , despite all the questions , She doesn't want a you & I.
She wants an US.

- s h a s -

I felt grief , I knew grief.
But I only experienced grief when I stepped out and the world was whole even though mine fell apart.
And that angered me , How can life go on when mine stopped? How is the world okay when I am not?
My universe was taken away from me , so why is the sky still lit up by stars?
My life is grey , why is the sun still out?
I can’t move on , I can’t leave the past because that’s where you exist most.
Your story was definitely written in glitter because there’s no way something so artistic would be written in ordinary old ink.
God perhaps doesn’t have favourites but if he did , I know he'd have picked you.
So then why did the loss of you not make the sky bleed and the Earth break?
The world has moved 3658 hours , 219 518 minutes and 13 171 080 seconds since I lost you, why then am I still stuck at the 04th of June 2024 , why is mind still at 11:51am?

- s h a s  -

I am running late ' she yelled , I need you to tie my lace whilst I lotion myself.
A small act of offering assistance became a habit and as time passed, she knew she never had to tie her lace alone again.
Every outing , every occasion , The words ' Tie my lace ' echoed.

He never taught her how to because he knew he would be around long enough to make sure she never had to learn.
With that promise of being around forever , He also never taught her how to live without him.
Because it is impossible , right? Heaven isn't so selfish to steal him so soon , Heaven knew she needed him forever and a day or two.

But it happened , sooner than he promised it would be , ' What happens to my lace ' she wondered , Will it stay undone forever?
She felt like throwing away every laced shoe , its not worth using if he isn't the one tying the lace.

As she set out to burn every shoe , she remembered , he tied those laces because he loved how it looked on her , he ensured they were always perfectly tied and that she was comfortable.
How can that go in vain?
She stopped , slid her feet in and with a river in her eyes , she tied her own lace.
She tied her own lace today and she will never stop tying them , not for herself but for him.

- s h a s -