Now I stood at the back of this old church. See you cry with all the intensity and emotions. You look divine in that suit. The air is filled
with the smell of roses. White ones.

You're doing the happy cry once more. I told you it
doesn't suit you one bit, but I will let you have it this time.

I can feel the weight of your stare from across this vast space of pastel colors, of ribbons with intricate details, of highly decorated pews, of slow murmurs of the guests half of which we barely know - your stare means, This is it, it is finally happening. I know your hands are clammy, you feel like your heart is going to jump out of your throat any moment. Hold yourself together, sweet love. It will be official soon enough.

Pachebel Canon is now being played softly on the piano, as if on cue, all the murmurs stopped, it was replaced by ooohs and ahhhs. I noticed the guests are as excited as you. I could very well feel the welling up of jumbled emotions inside me.

She looked perfect. She looked every bit of a happy girl marrying her dream guy - the love of my life.

And my heart plummets to this bottomless abyss of sadness.
Today you will be marrying her. Today you are no longer mine. Today you looked your happiest, and maybe that will be enough for me.

You loved me before, I love you now, I guess timing and chances will never rhyme.

I was the echo
and you were
the void I was
lost in.

you were the unforgiving sun
i was the blood-red rose slowly wilting
you were the trigger of a gun
i was the lost deer - eyes barely blinking
you were the puppeteer
i was the marionette tangled on a string
you were the chaos I hear
i was the stubborn kid left begging

you were the delusions in my head
i was the patient refusing medication
you were the temptations I was fed with
i was the sinner never seeking salvation
you were the eerie howl at dawn
i was the girl with so much desperation
you were the gloomy song
i was the mad one singing in unison

it was you who messed me up
now I am flawed as I'll ever be
this madness will never stop
until someone rescues me

Love's bad poetry
lacking some rhyme and reason
just like you and I

You leaned closer
put your hand on
my right cheek
and I am torn between
what is scarier,
the fact that my head
automatically tilts
towards the warmth
of your touch
like they have been dying
from cold
or the fact that
you made me feel
a whole kind of
beautiful by the
most simple act
of grazing your hand
on my pale face.

I was doomed
even before
it started.

They say true love is like fire
blow too much wind it will extinguish
blow too little it wouldn't blaze.
Ours was doused with cold,
unforgiving water
And it hurts a little too much to see
you holding the bucket.