broken

HIS’S

For the first few minutes, I did not feel anything. I was silent for a bit and those feelings started to build up. The next thing I knew, things were thrown everywhere, glass were scattered on the ground with a broken mirror. I was out of control.

My jaw clenched as well as my fists. I wasn’t angry with her. I was angry with myself. The harder I clenched my fist, the more the blood dripped.

I’m broken inside. I slumped onto the ground with my back blocking the door. I started to cry with my hands in my hair, supporting my head.

I looked towards my phone on the floor and picked it up. The wallpaper of the both of us laughing at each other flashed on the screen.

I’ve lost a precious girl.

It was too late. It was already done.

But I loved her.

No. I still love her.

If only I had turned around. If only.

HER’S

“Please,” I pleaded. I was already crying, begging him to turn around.

He walked away. He walked out the door.

I cried harder, repeating the words “no” and “please”.

I let myself fall onto the ground and held onto my chest. I felt my heart breaking. I felt the pain physically.

I cried louder and hit my chest, wanting the pain to disappear.

A pair of hands wrapped around me with whispers, “Shh, it’s going to be okay,”

It's not going to be okay. It will never be okay.

“It’s over. It’s over.” I found myself saying. I repeated it a few times and cried harder each time I said it.

My brother hugged me tighter.

We are now faded lovers. Pulled apart and torn apart.

#pain #broken