When I was little and deceived by thoughts of my own, I came to think that love was as perfect as portrayed in those fairy tales we were told. Little did I know that foolish me got herself fooled. None of my views about it were ever true.

Now I am standing on the horizon with a heart so cold and soul too crippled for peace. Eyes forever produce salty waters that run over my cheeks and keep them wet. At a slow pace I am starting to realise the camouflage it really is. At the hands of never ending pain disguised in the name of love.

Someday I will fly high like birds in the sky as I would’ve made full comprehension with the fact that I don’t need to be at anyone’s coast to colour happiness of my own. By then my poor heart would’ve healed and just like an elastic heart that was once stretched, it too will regain its normal shape.