The coldness seeps onto my skin,
While my fingers run down your back,
Like the surface of the porcelain bowl.

The clock strikes at 2 pm,
While you stare blankly at the coffee half empty,
You watched the water vapour formed into thin cloud,
Vanished into thin air as time slipped away.

The conversations in a cozy cafe became louder,
Everyone's conversations became part of unnecessary music in your ears.
They sang about life's trouble,  
Questioned the whereabouts of their food,
Pounded if they should get a dessert.
And then, it went to silence again.
Your gaze drifted off,
Back to your troubled mind,
And suddenly you heard them again.

The fluorescent light shone on your naked skin,
Your body interwoven with the synthetic rhythm as it fades out.
Dying embers around the tip of your cigarettes,
Sweet smoked curled and danced their way,
Through the dense clouds and billowed the room.  
Taste of tobacco and winter breeze on the seam of your lips.

The moonlight shone on your chest and shoulders,
Like Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden,
We devoured the forbidden fruit,
Intoxicated by the rhythm of entwined souls.

Flickering flare ignite from the lighter,
Smoke hung in the air and shifted out of the window,
Like Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden,
We stood by the window and,
Inhaled the sweet burning sensation in silence.

Some say flower wilt, petals fall off its original form,
It's left being torn, like your broken heart.
Wilting,
Barely breathing.
Yet some aren't aware of how beautiful petals used to be,
Bold and exquisite.

You told me to write down
my feelings on this book.
You said that I don't have to tell
anyone anything.

But you forget to mention that,
It's not okay to carry the weight of those words with me
Or,
Engrave those words into my heart,
and let the ink bleed into my heart.

You forget to tell me that it's okay,
Even if those words cut me deep,
mentally and physically.
You'll be okay,
only if you choose to let it go.

She said, "The color blue represents your soul,
sentimental,
nostalgic,
and always loving things from the past."

It affects your perspective of how you view
people,
the world,
and yourself.

My life is devoid of colors.
Unlike the cloud,
stuck between the shades of grey and blue,
swaying between gloomy and joy.

"You could be grey,
or red,
or yellow,
but you decided to paint yourself blue." she continued.

"It's okay", you said,
"It's alright", you said
with my blood smeared on your hands.

You smiled,
while I stood there,
losing myself
for you.