a house built on another person's tears never stands.

and yet another man's babies will have the eyes that he fell in love with at fourteen. the same people that would have been at the front row of their wedding there on yours instead. and him who once waited by the altar stands at the very back watching you walk down the aisle staring at another man's eyes.

we danced like the lovers we once were, unaware of the fact those days were over. and he could just hold you, stare at you with a smear painted smile weeping at the back of his mind stitched on his lips in drought as his heart pulled apart at the seams like your favorite jeans.

the sky mourns for us, the house of us, the once us. weeping down thick drops drenching the dried mask of acceptance he put on for you all over again, his feet quick, faster than before, faster than last time when he had lost, gave up on an argument and you.

"don't just walk away!" charles shouts, his breaths coming out in sob-like bursts, trying oh so desperately to keep the lid of his bottled emotions bringing water works to his eyes, "okay, i'm sorry— not every man you let into your life is a bad guy that you can't trust—"

grabbing your arm, spinning you around to face him, wincing at his own action, making his hand tremble and briefly let go. our voice rising through the loud rain, our faces souring holding back each other. "but i am someone who shows up when you need me! i'm here— right here!"

but he knew that's a lie. you don't need him.

he needs you. he misses you.