How could hollow stares at the archaic ceiling
Carve out a face — familiar and fascinating?
3 AM
You were remarkable, and remarkably aching
I wallow in wounding whys and unsurrendered longing

Stars scintillating in the lonesome horizon
Woeful what ifs come screaming in unison
Pillows turn to piercing haven
When hopeless hows veil the tranquil and sane

Sometimes, there is not definitive reason and fitting ideology
That would excuse a person from walking away
There is only one oppressive paradox it carries: the ephemerality of a person coincides with eternalness of memories
But —
If holding on to memories bleeds
I shall henceforth set you free