They were so consistent across until they broke into an inability to meet again.
I hardly spoke.
But I held trust without words, felt comfort without gestures.
I least doubt you would hurt.
I watch you alter from kindness to an indifference that almost undoes the months.
Through steady ignoring I realize you almost mocked at my grief.
I find no more strength to think or communicate.
I know you will hardly know how much you finished me within.
What didn't matter to you much perhaps ravaged me enough into an outburst that shook me up more than the surprise it must have brought you.
What hurt was the way you chose to trust others and hurt me.
The way you slighted the choice of a journey towards you, the way you mocked away a sincere bond I trusted in.
When I walked down to you, I still wanted to live.
Now I know nothing matters... I know through life through death nothing will matter again.
You through whom I learnt not to quit from a place, through you I also am unable to ever step in again.
I think of every moment that you must have watched words reflect my pain and yet ignore them as if you crushed a life between two careless thoughts.
I realize I was just a toy of amusement, an object of pity.
You offered courtesy, I sought sincerity.
I recoil within once and for all.
I who looked forward to meeting you, today struggle through the sense of betrayal, through the bitter realisation that you chose to hurt with a deliberate conscious choice.
That it was possible to distrust me while you chose to uphold what others wanted you to see me through.
Perhaps death will be easier henceforth.
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