Fake.

                                                   Fake. 

Did you ever know that we were going to get like this? Guilt takes me all over when I think about every single time you came to me.

Neither did you, nor did I never came to know about our relationship.

No one was aware what it meant when you asked me if I loved you.

It was just fear. For how do you throw fear into your pockets, by fear itself?

Your elision on me never stressed you it punched me all over like I was being stumped.

You didn’t know what fear was. You blended me with love, and you took yourself out from the blend. I’ve forgotten now, to see if you are original or

‘fake’

For, no one was supposed to know anything about us. No one was to talk about us. No one. And,

You ripped the blood out of my heart and meshed it with your liquid, leaving me probing for mine alone, which I would never find again.

Can’t you just look at me and to the least pretend  like you love me?

Maybe then,  I wouldn’t forget what it is like to not smile.

For, love. You overtook it with hate. I couponed it better with my love for you. But, you saw only your hate getting through me like a honey bee striving for its hive.

And the hive to have fallen down, like a corpse inside a coffin.

You never fell down. You stung me. Stung me until I couldn’t find anything anymore.

For, just tell me if you are fake. I would walk down the aisle like nothing ever happened.

And, don’t tell me if you are ‘my’  original. If you ever do, I would bid bye to you like everything happened, and let the memories in front of me tell you that I’m no more yours.

What was I even to you? Glue that stuck pieces of your ego together?

Or ego that stuck the pieces of your hate together?

For, what would you do the next moment I tell you that we’re no more,

Would you go back to the time when you pleaded me for another kiss?

Or,

Would you fleet back to the time when you secretly promised me that you would never leave me,

Or,

Would you just stab me again?

Like you always did.

Seconds ago, I gave up on you.

'cause love, you are fictionally living.

I welcome you to emptiness.