friendships are such fickle things -
they take months, years to build
and yet take a few moments, a few seconds to be torn down.
~~~
imagine a canvas of friendship.
every stroke of paint beautifies the canvas
just like how every moment we share lights up my life.
the red paint is like the happiness thay seems to radiate off you.
the orange paint is the sun, its sun rays as warm as your smile.
the yellow paint is like the sunshine you were to my life.
the green paint, the colour of emerald, as precious as how an friendship should be.
the blue paint, the colour of the light blue sky, the colour of calmness and clarity.
see? every colour on the canvas
symbolises our friendship.
every.
single.
one.
then, imagine a knife.
you were the one who held it.
every single insult
every single hurtful word
was like a knife to my heart.
and also a rip to our canvas
with every single insult,
imagine a slash to our canvas.
one
the canvas was split into two.
I tried to sew it back
but instead hurt myself with the needle
while you slashed it again.
two
and again.
three
and again
four
'you don't give a shit about this!'
five
'do you think you're the only one suffering?'
six
at the end of the day,
can I still see the painting?
no.
can I still call it a canvas?
no.
can I still call us friends, even?
no.
not anymore.
~~~
friendships takes months, even years to build
just like how it takes months, or maybe years to perfect a painting on canvas
and all it takes is just one moment, one second,
to completely destroy it all.
YOU ARE READING
Fragments of A Soul
Poetry'I'm no longer a whole; just fragments of a soul. My life is no longer red or yellow or blue; all that's left is a greyish hue. But, my soul will be whole once again and my life will be filled with sunshine and rain. Till then, words will be my esc...
