we met 5 years ago,
in a town close to home.
we got along so well,
like mirrors,
we reflected each other ,
call it the perks of being two lovers,
who knew each other well and better.
we really had it going for us,
the love shared between us was a beautiful painting of art,
and we the artists of our hearts,
painting beautiful memories that will always be on replay at the back of my mind, where my pillows keeps the secrets of the dreams that mean the most to me,
the meaningful dreams of I and him.

Was there ever such a word so beautiful yet cruel called love?
one wonders who came up with this hurtful word?

I'm left to pick up the pieces of my broken heart,
one by one,
to start again,
is the hardest thing to ever do,
to know that someone else lips you kiss are no longer his,
the bed you shared with him,
has someone else lying on it,
and you have to force yourself,
to repeat the words you don't mean to someone else,
when deep down you wish it was him you were repeating those words too.