i.

I told you to wear your seatbelt.

ii.

We had an argument.

You told me to never come near you again;

I said that you'd die without my touch.

You left me on read. I deleted your contact on my phone;

then, tossed, twisted, turned in restless sleep.

iii.

You stood in front of the mirror;

fingers ghosting over the scar on your palm.

We made a blood pact behind that shed;

don't you remember?