of a still seedless land and its pulled out roots

Bracelets and pinky promises 

of staying together until we're old.

scrapbooks and letters 

with my nasty handwriting 

and your perfectly curved strokes.

concerts and curfews

leaving even before it ends.

traffic lights and a bombarded inbox 

of people who sometimes fail to understand.

marriage and ideals 

based on fictional romance stories

we wished to be ours.

investments and mysteries 

broken up.

food and crafts 

admired and shared together.

laughter and judgments 

and laughter again

an everyday routine 

that halted in a snap 

but we continued 

separately 

with both losses we had to live in 

and people who remained asking

how we've been

how's our strings

cut in half. 

Confrontations and resolutions

with made-up thoughts 

and hurtful notes.

a newfangled gap

that's lingering

despite the recently tied string.

how would i be able to wear 

an almost a decade old bracelet

if the rust proves to be difficult to remove? 

how would i be able to hover 

in this buzzing silence 

of shouting indifference 

and a greatly disparate existence? 

how would i step on this common ground

that is muddy and unplowed?  

How fast it is for a tree to cultivate

but much faster to die. 

How hard it is to plant again 

but much harder to watch it struggle to be revived. 

what a quiet heartbreak.