Stained coffee table and a broken flower vase.
What is missing in that picture?
Waves of your anger still surrounding the place.
The raindrops hide your tears, and the wind tries to consume the bitterness.
It is the end, my favorite, broken vases can be repaired, but the scars will linger within the glassy flesh.
In the end, it is not a love story anymore;
It was a raging volcano raped in a cardboard box.