“What would you do? Who will collect your pieces, while you are busy collecting my shattered soul’s pieces?” The other soul smiled gently filled with agony hiding her pain, to console mine. I wondered how long before she will understand that ashes can only be collected and not repaired. Each time she will touch me she will become me. Who will collect her then? I can foresee her smiles into cries and screams of agony. She is too high in her love to feel the pain. Her melt down shall start soon enough.
Her melt down that the soul couldn’t bear. None to collect her. None like her who tried to collect my shattered soul. What will ever happen to her. Each drop that trickled down my pieces as her soul will keep pushing me away to collect her. I know how. She won’t let me though.