I was poked by a messenger's inquisitions today, whose tidings will unfortunately be received in umbrage. I can't help but to face my eyes towards sympathy where my words get mistakenly appropriated. Words that stab my heart with rue. Words that lavish and festoon upon the chains of my past. My ties have been cleanly cloven by what I have said already. Do not rope me back with words of seduction for I do not wish anymore to kiss my recent past.

My composure sits. I express contrition. But the smarting of a vicious cycle thrusting and stinging my nerves is something I have no strength to repeat.

My remembrance of days of yore is diluted by something of a more potent capacity. A character native of my heart. A story that drifted on 5 erratic oceans, encapsulated in a bottle, braving whatever storms or calm there was to come. However, the bottle's anchored to shore and has been opened now. Storms and calm are over now. Just like your story is come to a close.

But even so if there ever was a ditty worded for you, they are merely words. No hidden message of a tryst eagerly waiting in anticipation to be decoded will be buried within. So I say, truly, let go. I have.