i. I was nothing but a remnant of ruination from the very moment I first laid eyes on you. I knew I had fallen from the way I could taste the stars on your lips; and no, not champagne stars, but the kind that explode upon collision. The kind that set the sky afire during a meteor shower. The kind that human beings are said to be partially made from.

ii. Blistering fingers, hollowed-out bones and cracks in rough skin, through which crimson liquid ineluctably seeped—I was anything but soft. But you were. You had a softness in your eyes; a tender sweetness that travelled to your fingertips and the ends of your hair. I was whole until those fingertips touched me once and never again, leaving me craving an encore for infinity.

iii. Tell me, my darling, what did you feel when you ruined me? Were you even aware that within me, buildings collapsed and quaked my very soil? Did your world so much as quiver at the thought of my destruction?

iv. I was meant for wonders. I was meant to disintegrate to stardust; but instead, I was reduced to rubble of old buildings and broken skies. Ruination runs its course—and you, my darling, were the pathway to mine.