There are two perfect people facing each other,

Thinking,

“What went wrong?”

Maybe there were too many calls you never answered.

Maybe I lost too many words I had meant to said.

Maybe I forgot how lovely it felt to hold your hand.

Or maybe you forgot to ask,

“What went wrong?”

How did all those memories, once full of passion,

Turn into rage?

Into shame?

Why has facing each other in the morning become painful,

Knowing there are still more to bear?

The big house, the blooming flowers, the garden.

They all merely accessories,

Like a necklace tied down to a neck,

Above the heart that sank.

“Where should we go now?”

“Home”

Let us find our own way home.