Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Being a writer comes with its pitfalls. A person's entry and exit into our lives turn into words.
I promised myself I wouldn't write about you. It seems as if all my works are tales of people who walked out of my life. I never wished it would be the same with you.
I never wished sadness would dawn upon us, That your exit would follow soon.
But I guess after all I am a mere writer, with no control over fates twists and turns.
So like every other person you eventually walked away, Leaving a shriveled, broken heart behind.
The broken heart had a strong will, Determined to keep its promise.
A long struggle followed, The broken heart trying to defy its nature, Trying not to unleash its pain, Trying not to turn you into a genesis of its melancholy.
Alas, the broken heart was proven weak, It broke its promise. It shaped you into another one of its stories.
