Slow piano tunes play out as I walk towards the certainty, this singularity.
My heart heavy, listens to your confession.
"Since when?" I ask, not caring for the answer that I already knew months before.
"Now. Just now."
Grey sepia dandelions flutter, but oh, how beautiful you are still.
"Hi, how does this work?"
Had I known, I would've told you that I didn't know and walked away.
"I don't wanna lie. I can't tell anything but the truth.. it's over."
But, even in this death, you're still so beautiful amongst my molten ashen flowers of love.
Futile, wasn't it? In hoping that you'd stay.
And it made sense.
A purple flower, the red wine, the ashtray, the white flag and me, suddenly so small.
A cruel revelation. And me, still naive.
This bandage.. slowly tearing off my eyes.