Mutilation by conversation.

FOR THE LOVE OF WHISKEY.

He said, “Hey there”.

And just like that, I crossed paths with a stranger, our fates intertwining deeply, like smoke curls around a flickering flame. I smiled back at him, not realising that his face would be imprinted in my memory for the rest of my life, his name I would scream into my pillow at night, and his words shall spill over into all the poems I would write from now on.

He said, “I think I’m in love with you”.

And just like that, I fell through space and time, like how galaxies are formed. His words were the supernova and I was the star, exploding into existence, for I no longer belonged to myself now. He owned every cell of my body and he knew it, blowing the stardust off my skin, admiring the frail delicate girl beneath it that was now his to keep, and to…

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