Well Crafted Heartbreak.

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Oh, I’m an eclipse?
this, is this heartache crying?

You tell me,
who’s heart I trampled;
when mine’s beat
had never withstood
harshness of change
within a day.

I, I loved you…
I loved how it seemed
it was your well crafted piece
only saying my name,
the call in it went beyond
just my name being called.

Take this, take it all.
This, this is what I would’ve wasted
in form of tears.
Now, they’re only a tug
and haven’t been embroidered
in indecisions, corruption;
both our individuality.

But before I can claim,
any brightness attached to my first tasting;
I’m not an eclipse.
To us, if we were to recollect
our memories similarly,
I would be a stagnant time;
bound by weakness
and overthrown by change.

Related to us…

I, I loved you.
I loved your hurried steps
like bundled years that let me to you.
You didn’t notice but,
I, I always counted
yet every time our toes met;
it felt we’d already lived out our time.
Tragic desires
That fulfilled their passion.

You tell me,
When I became an eclipse…

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