i stared into your broken irises.
i did not know what to do.
you may be broken, but so am i.
the only difference is you broke yourself by leaving.
so in the end, you broke both of us.
you also ripped out my blank papers that i haven't yet to write a story for myself.
almost as if you wanted to put my life on hold.
pulling me away from my thoughts.
and then i thought, possibly the story that was meant to be written on those empty pages were supposed to spent with you.
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