Those last words hit him hard.
Not scratching, but ripping him apart.

She hardly cared about what she said.
Did it even strike her
if his feelings were left able enough to love
or were they left dead?

No texts, no messages went unnoticed for a day or two.
Something started bothering,
dark thoughts started to linger on,
and then pass through.

Tensed and bothered,
she found her steps to his street.
Fears came alive,
and tears turned up with life.
White clothes and a gathering was what met her eyes in a distant haze
The crumbled paper clutched in her hands felt like glaze

Steps retreated and everything went blank.
The realizations of her actions made a chill run down her spine and freeze her
soul.
Did her utterances hurt him more or was it the whack, that left fingers distinguished on his face, which still had a smile as he stood by the pole?
Although he didn't reflect but was he left broken so bad, never again to be whole?

The days that followed were no better,
until the day her eyes caught a sight that made her heart skip a beat
and body burn with heat.

He stood there, amongst his friends with a smile although faded and grey.

She wanted to control but she could not and dashed towards him as her hands hugged him tightly.

Today it did feel right,
the same face she had slapped that day,
today was in direct contact with her lips.

They were indeed a sight but he pushed her aside.
She was not expecting that, and all he said was - "broken hearts don't usually look back".


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