An usually unusual 4 am conversation,
with a hot mug of betrayal, bit sugary
as my tongue touched the pain, and
sipped it down, feeling all my venation,
running toward my heart,
captivating my emotions. Ah! what-a-pity.
A sugary poison, or
may be a tasteless one,
flowing all in me,
as if trying to drown me down,
to choke me, my heart;
a vengeance of love.
Blinded by those mesmeric cosmic eyes,
I can see the futuristic universe,
which is meant to be ours; was.
And with his, starry mug,
he made me drink, the saccharine of love,
or betrayal?
The everlasting ephemeral,
taste of love,
coated on the brim.
Was I actually drinking? or
Was I tasting?
Or may be, a little
more from both.
Lips touching the edges,
and sips touching my soul,
what-a-fool!
Racing emotions,
paralyzed to catch breathes,
stood on the edge of a wicked world,
of heartbreaks and betrayals.
Nerves failing,
beats turning uncountable,
I broke the souvenir,
of an adulterated love.
Muddled up in the vapors of emotions,
my heart knew
the lightness of
a heavy love,
which will one day,
to fall into your
mugs of love,
as you sit down under
a darker, cloudy night,
with someone,
who you wished
was there with you.