I tried to run, to break the spell,

But love like this is forged in hell.

Your ghost still whispers through the walls,

In every mirror, every fall.

I found a world outside your name,

But nothing burned with quite the same.

The quiet felt like bitter snow—

No fire, no touch, just letting go.

You found me once in someone’s arms,

A fleeting peace, untouched by harm.

But even then, your voice would call,

And I would flinch, and I would fall.

I kept your ring inside a drawer,

A relic of the nights before.

I touched it once—then once again,

And let you crawl beneath my skin.

So here I stand, on shattered ground,

With one last chance to turn around.

But freedom tastes like ash and dust,

Compared to you—compared to us.

You were my poison, sharp and sweet,

My ruin, dark, and incomplete.

And still I crave your fatal kiss—

What kind of love… becomes like this?

Read Part-1 https://www.emalayalee.com/news/342630