Five minutes late,
five that you never waited.

Our first date
felt like it was already fated.

The next ones didn't improve,
we just stayed together,
we loved each other so much,
thinking it would last forever.

Now we've reached ten,
I'm falling at your feet,
and now I see my mind was a mess,
but you fixed it, made it neat—
just once,
so you could break it later,
leaving me with the shards,
the heart of a spectator.

So many dates have passed,
so many times I felt lost,
I couldn't even count them,
just another day, at what cost?
Another day in my routine,
just drifting in between.