"we are strangers now."

I miss you in a way that kills me.  

You asked me something, wearing a pink and white dress—  

I remember it vaguely.  

We used to talk about the history of our invisible string,  

all along.  

But now, I am a puppet with no string.  

We were friends,  

and I dreamt of things to do with you.  

We became lovers,  

never stopped dreaming.  

I stabbed myself a hundred times—  

I am not bleeding; it aches.  

I wish I had never stabbed myself,  

I wish I had never left you.  

But with you, I felt like a dead rose  

used as a centerpiece.  

Yet I stayed there, for a long time.  

I wish we were only friends,  

and never lovers.