Hands shake as the pen meets the page, my love. I’m about to write our story. I finally found my end, buried in time that had now come to pass.
Time is a funny thing, never on my side, never in my palm, forever away, lurking in the promises of tomorrow.
Today, despite the pain and the longing, I wish to end the torment we bore, until, hunched over your own vomit, we found some dreams
Sensible dreams were they, I thought, as I collected the pieces till make the art, words fell short but today I made up my mind to write the end of our story.
Invoking raw emotions, laying bare the soul, drinking from the cup of immorality, I seek solace in my own empty arms, longing for a breath not my own.
And finally, be as it may, accept defeat at the hands of fate. I do not wish to fight this battle. Sometimes in life, it’s harder to give up and know when to step aside for the light to step in.
Through those windows I once gazed upon your presence, once flickering and now gone.
Shifa Naseer 