When love knocks and hits close to home,
fear creeps in. History is repeated.
Agonizing images rise up back to life.
Relentless nights. Battered ego. Overused pen and phone. Scribbles on walls and notebook pages.
Broken picture frame. Crumpled papers. Unfinished meals. Torn photographs.
Tear stains on the pillow. Loud music. Broken guitar strings.
Dark eyeliners. Black shirts and skirts. Stories with tragic endings.
Moments of shouting and sobbing under the shower.
Because your heart bumped into someone undeserving.
Fear creeps in.
Because you know that when love knocks and hits close to home, death shall smile at you. And you know, you cannot afford another death.
For resurrection, no matter how persistently you ask for it,
comes only after a huge pact of murk.