My heart desired to forget your existence in the mornings but invited your ghosts at nights.
I condemned your acts, letting that scowl suppress my clandestine smile.
I rose as a cup of coffee for everyone, acrid and strong.
But I was always your cup of tea in my mind, sweet and blissful.
The fire of death, I was, hissing from the sky to the earth.
But I was your shooting star, the one and only.

No matter how deep you scarred my heart, it never hurt.
For with that scar you sculpted yourself deeper in my heart.