It's the end of the year. And this year, while we did try to mend some things and explore some feelings, we failed. We saw it coming, didn't we?
We knew before we started that we were doomed. The moments we captured, hand in hand, eyes locked, lips sealed, now remain as just memories. Memories that are urging us to call it. Like doctors do, at the end of a failed surgery.
Time of death- Dec'21.
Let's call it, shall we? Stitch up the remains, sew up the rest of our lives, continue with bits of the tattered souls that usurps.
It's the end of the year, let's start afresh anew. You without my thoughts lingering, I without you.
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