This is me trying

𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑒

When you left me for fame
on the other side of our favorite beach,
I walked inside an eerie room,
plethora of mirrors around me,
touched the shiniest of all
and became one myself.
Now that you aren't here
to hold my hand like you used to,
these mirrors showcases
the metamorphosis of
this home for my disdained soul
from an authentic self
into an unknown being,
who once was in need of
continuous validation of
suiting oneself into
those ideal standards
that honey, you seemed to have
fallen for me in the first place.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow
is all you could say
when my arms were wide open
for you but
you walked past your home
and entered into a new dimension
without me in it;
without me.

And when I saw your Polaroid
lying on the shelf,
loneliness befriending him,
I couldn't help myself
but to hold him for 3 seconds
and bury it
under a colossal of hurricanes.

Oh, honey,
when you went
to the other side of our favorite beach,
I couldn't get myself together,
still can't.
I am looking at myself in this mirror,
can only see the blueness
encompassing it;
could be the sky above
for a new fledge of wings
or the ocean,
the siren who kept on singing
for eons.