You used to tell me that I made you feel the universe.
And as writer, trust me, I really did.
I summarized everything that describes the universe -
everything that my senses feel, say, hear, and see, I stitched them into words, spilled the ink on canvas, and made it your home.
You deserved it, my love.
It became our own little universe in this world.
It was where you and I meet.
Where two become one.
Where verses unite into paragraphs.
All bonded by love.
You were the pillar. I was the light.
But one day, you suddenly stopped meeting me here.
My pillar, you were almost always gone.
I couldn't hold the weight on my shoulders.
Our universe crumbled.
You came back, saw the ruins, the mess, the chaos.
You saw me as damaged.
And you were disgusted.
You decided you didn't want to live in our universe anymore.
You said you didn't like a writer anymore.
I was left with the word "Goodbye."
I could've asked why...
Yet I know I didn't have to.
You just loved the beauty.
You saw me as your perfect sweet escape.
Nothing more.
That's why, when you brought the drought inside our universe, you didn't stay to help me heal and save it.
The verses in our universe stopped rhyming.
It was the end of it all; our downfall.
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"Apocalyptic Love"
@Yours, Kitty
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T