Chapter 1: Desire and Desirée

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Once upon a heartbreak, a deserted island far far away from here,
Except that, I hadn't realized it wasn't — just that it was unfeelable,
Where once daggers could splice through, unsharpened,
And it didn't take a wise man to rationalize the emotion.

Their holding hands and whispered hushes felt like thunder,
Splicing through the sky, the bleeding twisting the linger,
When silence finally enveloped like a blank canvas between me and her,
And so I scribbled and scribbled till I ran out of ink and paper.

So I picked myself up from the grave, the evidence etched on the memorial:
"Desirée." As I traced her name, my finger trailing in longing desire.
It's okay, if our beginning felt like a preface rather than a first chapter,
But what do you call hope? A prolonged delusion, or patience, a lingering liar?

There was only one way to find out: relighting my burnt-out pyre.
Because I felt like a burnt matchstick, I couldn't spark that fire,
It was just a matter of their parting ways, before it changed our future,
I finally knew the poison I'd to pick: together catch an already lit desire.

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