Love Story of Cowards

i picked up your fainted heart ; like a dead petal. never had i seen personification so beautifully designed- you screamed privilege and ran away with twelve paper sheets and one deceased heart. if i knew this is the taste of words, i would have smirked at my naive self, broken me to bits, abandoned me and trusted me. if only i knew this is the taste of words, i would have never turned to love. if i describe you even the hunch of the feelings i feel, you will ask for more- more words ; more hurt. but if you believe even a portion of my poems, you will ask for less- less words ; less hurt. i picked up your fainted heart, like a metaphor- drugged with painkillers. you were my shooting star ; falling void less over the orbit, but i sailed away. if i knew this is the taste of words, i would have stayed, let you desrtuct around me, just to make rhymes on a love story, a love story of cowards.