was it love we laughed off.

I said we were both the epitome of contradiction. You said we’re the magnet where you go north while to the south I’m so fond. But we’re standing on the same shaky ground (don’t you realize it is) all by the broken wings and bonds.

With only us two, it’s happiness we knew. Or so I feel every time I’m areverything that’s you. I dare not say we’re all this about fate and a love so great. For we look for each other only when the harsh life gives us no other choice but to escape.

Am I happy now that in the old photograph we were laughing hard as if there was no tomorrow. For tomorrow is me walking out of the garden of sorrow. And I’m not very much familiar with the idea of missing someone so dearly I don’t know what of us should have turned out to be.

Like — are we sorry. Being that my heart and yours wounded badly. Where you must know it already, your sole presence’s enough to make it feel a bit worthy. And weren’t we agreed to let ourselves swim deep in the irony?

Like — are we at fault. Since we found, by each other the peace everyone talked about. We did not stand by the tightrope — despite our souls’ kept hidden inside the vault. And weren’t we agreed to sit and sleep in the same boat; where we freely float with the loosened grasp of deadly oath.

Maybe I am sorry. For knocking at your friend’s door last Halloween party. For being glad that I heard your ringing laugh from distance even only briefly.

Maybe you are sorry. For peeking into my current favorite homemade recipe. For smiling wholeheartedly knowing that I’m now eating regularly.

Maybe we are sorry. For wanting to laugh at another one lame joke that comes out of your mouth. For feeling the discomfort of our long gone promises that we never really spoke of. For calling it all off even after proudly mistook it all as love. But we laughed.

Maybe we’re sorry. Probably.