The glass filled with water
ricochets off the table,
spilling all of its insides everywhere,
breaking into a zillion pieces you can not join.
Pieces you can not find.

And heartbreaks, my love,
are breaking of glass
in slow motion.
You know it is going to break;
you know you can not do anything;
you know the inevitability has dawned.
Like your hands are tied
by the ropes made by your hands.

So, when I notice you making efforts to BE
with me, I flip pockets of past inside-out to
re-live the nonchalant moments when you were
with me, rather than trying to be.
And the fights keep popping up,
and doubts,
and expectations which used to meet
so easily back then,
now stay hung midair between us.
Keeping us far. Pushing us far.
But afar.
So near.
But afar.

And who is to blame for this?
You, me or the world?
But you look so happy with the
world than you are with me.
And I keep wondering why the whole world
is so keen to see you laughing away from me,
when it can’t even a spare a moment or two
for my smile alone.

But gravity is only realized when you
speak the weighty words out or
drop heavy texts down. I know you are too
weak to break my heart and I am not so
strong to stop it from breaking.
But these gaps
in my fingers will never be enough to hold
you and a breaking heart together.

leave me tonight.
Because the dark will shadow my world
without you,
for some time.
And I am not ready to see it in the light just yet.
Not yet.
So as the dark of the night become soft
let’s just slip into the morning, this morning,
a little far apart.
With a zillion pieces of each other’s heart.

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