To paint 

The contours of life
Painted in touch
Of hand subtle
Fine lines
Of historical traces
I beg you not
To discard your pen.

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A pebble

You needed pictures. Constant pictures. Constant reminders of us. Everywhere. To show, to brag, to boast. Every move of ours needed to caught on film and showed to the world. At first I found it flattering and brave of you to showcase our love to everyone around. Then I understood.

It’s interesting when you realize you are a merely a prop in someone’s life. How foolish I was, thinking I was moving along with you while actually I was never even considered to be taken on your voyage. And that day when it struck me, when I saw the abandoned suitcase at the airport, well, it hit me hard. Damn hard. Because there I was thinking I was rock solid foundation yet you made me into a useless pebble and kicked me out of the way, just like that.

I don’t know what to feel. I burnt our pictures, if that even matters to you. I threw away the suitcase. But the pebble, the pebble I kept. Pebbles can be annoying. Just thought you should know that.
Just thought you should know…

To write

My love,
There are few words left to say
And even fewer to write
Yet I have to try
To shed some light
If at least
To clarify the unclear
It was what it was
And became what it is
If regret were a color
I would paint the whole world
Make it all sober
If tears were gold
I would save each drop
In a lucky charm pot
But nothing of the sort exists
It was what it was
And we became what we are
For goodbye is now
An ending with no comma
With deepest sincerities
And all my love
– E.