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The stars were glistening in unlit obscurity,
waving to me gently as if in a waltz.
I can sense their comforting arms reaching to catch me,
nonetheless, in vain.
For you took it all away without merely looking back to see
the fractions of the pieces you shattered,
unabashedly,
inside of my fragile soul.
My essence learned pain.
With faltering steps is how I approached your stare.
My hands proved a most luscious shade of red,
the color of my love, my heart, my spirit.
The nuance of all care.
I served you my heart, not on a silver platter, but on a string of unbreakable potency, devised by my enfeebled hands that now long for your entrancing grasp, a most warm stunt of affection, manifested with manipulative care.
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But you gave it back like a love letter thrown in the fire, and your eyes glistened in the face of the destructive flame with a passivity I did not recognize when faced with. You wholly disregarded the fact that in the midst of my ode, there laid my heart, wrapped inside my pleading words, begging you to stay, to hold me once more for the sake of the old times, for their memory keeps me sane when the tumultuous reality tries to penetrate my brittle enclosure.
I remain impotent, unable to face reality anymore, as if lost in a distant galaxy I am now doomed to roam until the stars allow me to find closure. A perennial quest in search of something to patch up the holes you impassively carved inside of me.
For all my indefatigable effort, you still chose to break our linkage, you broke the lace and lost the charm, and in their absence, I became numb.
Numb with pain, with heartache and a feeling of acute emptiness that feels as though I'm forcefully being dragged within.
I now loiter in the places we used to claim as ours, spaces that now feel haunted by your ghost, a specter of the past that never ceases to make its presence known. I feel the dizzying vibrations as I am watching from afar, hiding as if I could get dissolved by the light of the memories they hold in a straining captivity, as if alighting them could induce my eradication.
The piercing cold penetrates my skin, and in the absence of your inviting gaze, I freeze into oblivion.
I threw the ribbon and broke the locket.
A rebellious act,
another nail in the coffin.
The pain widens.
I feel my hands wavering,
trembling,
resigning.
My body aches for comfort, notwithstanding, its supplier long gone. Mist clouds my eyes whilst pearls of grief trickle down my cheeks, forming a path your hands would find familiar, for, at its core, the gloomy lane sprung from the oasis you brushed aside.
But I feel free, unbound from the thread I tied around us. At long last, I escaped the ravening wormhole of despair.
But how naive was it to believe that my act of vulnerability would mend your wicked heart, would cure it from all its impurities, and pluck them straight out of their founding soil? I loved you like a drowning man loves air and the love you displayed in return likened a hunter's gaze at his dead prey.
The gap too great, ground split beneath us, driving us further away, akin to how when the tide crashes into rocks, it splits into multitudes.
Maybe my pain is fleeting after all, and perhaps I will learn to live in your absence, make the most of the fortuitous event I was bequeathed.
Then again, I am left all alone, shattered like the sacrament I no longer am a part of.
I look up at the bright moon twisting in glazed shades that act as comfort for all that I have lost. it whispers to me, urges me to snap out of it.
I am lost,
alone,
and unremediably hollowed from within.
With quivering hands, I dissipate the guidance like slivers of dust waltzing through air and I ask the ether, implore it for another chance, a serendipitous attempt to find love again, its aroma permeating my armour, breaking the walls I put up in defense, merely so that I can feel something again, escape the dark room restricting me to tightness and passivity and find someone for whom I might, once more, tie a ribbon and lock the bond.
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