imperfect smiles shattered by sharp corners. tumultuous patterns masked as accidents. something died that day.

there was no funeral but the fixings were present. broken glass, broken you, broken we.

when you gift light to a canister of gas how can you expect to be greeted in return? by twin flames that set alarms in hell. questions of sanity and augmented realities.

screaming in crowded spaces where no one can hear you. withering like all living things in need of nourishment.

dancing with haram because the sway is familiar. scars, seen and unseen, tatter uniforms in wars where neither side wins. accepting purple hearts posthumously because a death by love is considered the most honorable.

a victim of loyalty and love who is careful not to call things by their given names because that, that would mean treason.

so we settle. for names like “resilient” and an adoption of the belief that true love cannot exist without immense pain.

hopeless romanticism cracked by anger and trauma. my god, what have we done?

mourning those who still walk earth but couldn’t feel further away than the finality of death. dramatic, you say? you don’t know the half.

the tears don’t bother anymore. they’ve moved on to someone more deserving. someone less reactive and more worthy of hurting.

carrying sorrow like an out of season handbag dying for retirement. like pens too dry to etch another sad story. like deferred dreams crumbling beneath the surface. how many funerals can one have?

the songs don’t even sound the same.

once a sweet reminder of unison, they’ve transitioned to nails across chalkboards looping through a heart that once skipped beats to the mere utterance of your breath.

my dear, we were fools to believe that with time chaos would beget anything but.

but we try anyway. we hope for triumphant endings that make the exceptionally dark days feel like means to an end. we stay in hopes that the bond can act as transformer against shared and preexisting demons. we are so fucking wrong and we can’t admit that to ourselves or anyone else.

my love, you killed me that day. and i’m still sorry for abandoning you.