The Deletion Paradigm

On the verge of opening my door,
to your mute knock;
after writing books, placards, and memes
on my arms, thighs, lips and cheeks
in cinema halls, cafeterias, and roads
trying to recreate the lost essence.
Today, you stand deleted.
I breathe.
I have given up on my skin,
to make space for some new imprints.
I have evaporated your colossal countenance
to be just left with memories and drawbacks,
in a bottle in my phone,
and, sent them to my bin of regrets.
Today, you stand deleted.
I breathe.
As I walk down the road,
following in the footsteps of that crazy streak of water,
trying to blur the lines of loneliness,
synchronising parts of my phone, with parts of my mind;
I realise,
there are places, I can’t delete you from.
For, no more is it just you, me and the prying eyes,
It is also you, me and a matrix of recording eyes,
in the world of virtuality.
And, just like you,
its broken promises, and disagreed terms of agreement;
indelibly present in a matrix,
where I met you.
Our encrypted memories are scattered in bits and bytes,
across my mind, and the matrix alike;
that once created,
are there to exist,
perhaps forever.