the sparrow and the shrimp.

one couldn't live without the other. only one could survive and the other would have to die — you did. you died. you weren't there anymore. life has you, has taken your color. pieces of you are everywhere even if you're right there, in white.

your heart's gone, while his had fallen, and fall, lower and lower to no return, on a flatline, like a funeral, leaving him clenching his fists so tightly, his hand holding the gun trembles at how cold his body had suddenly become seeing you like this, devout in a way a person shouldn't to the wrong people.

"i thought i was changing your mind." he said, his eyes stung red, his heart breaking, "i thought you're gonna come back to me."