The clocks in our hearts were in sync;
We felt it.
Too bad it wasn't our time.

I guess
the good thing
about having many scars
is that
new wounds
rarely
leave a mark.

If I were a painter,
he would definitely be my muse.
But amidst the shades
of black, gray, and blue
there wouldn't be
a color dark enough
to match the sadness
in his eyes.

☔

I tried my best to rekindle our fire;
You just watered down all my attempts.


All efforts were futile.

I'm sorry
I keep comparing
you and everything we have
to the ghosts
of my past.

she is
a pretty little flower
but beware
of the poison
that runs deep
in her roots.

If love had another name, this could be it.
I realized this last night;
when I thought of a distant memory.
We were both drunk;
pouring our hearts out
talking about how our loved ones
always tend to abandon us and all.
We hoped love could cure it all
but we both know it wasn't enough.
It was never enough
to lift the heavy weight
our hearts and shoulders held.
After thinking back
to the things that had happened,
I came to a conclusion
that it isn't always love itself; sometimes it's the lovers.