Blue Wedding.

Are we ever going to see these sunrises?
The ones where the smoke fills your lungs,
And we etch our names into sand multiple times.
As if we were ever meant to be.
I run my hand through the craters on your skin,
Breaking down into dust.
How trivial of us to fall into depths unknown.
Songs on repeat like the pages of your prologue
Of every book you never completed.
You exhale into my words,
I rummage through my loose thoughts.
We never found our home in each other but we found love.
Or the idea of it.
In books that we’d criticize yet secretly adore.
Roads that made us fight and voids that never filled.
We would always be the danger signs in bold red.
In front of every ethereal theory of blissful memories,
We’d be the gasoline that lit every belief on fire.
Breath in all the failed attempts,
So envious of the happy endings we hated.
Then came July, worn-down love letters and empty dinner tables.
You left. I left.
We saw each other in dreams that shook us awake.
I heard you found love and a home at once.
Wearing blue to your wedding,
We held hands once more.
You told me I taught you to be in love.
Cliché romances and dancing on rooftops.
I watch as you walk into your sunrise.
And then, that was the first time we ever saw a sunrise.
Together yet apart.
Happy and content, coincidentally.

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