Broken.

I've made mistakes.
Mistakes that would forever haunt me, choices that would linger on till infinity ends.
Past that cannot be accepted, present full of regrets, future filled with uncertainties.
I've bitten the hand, the hand that fed me.
"But I wasn't wrong", he kept thinking.
I gave her the world, yet she wanted space.

The strong wind of guilt made him reckless,
he looked up at the fan rotating as if his solution was embedded in it.
His thoughts were venomous, he was full of careless rage.
His mind was in a cage, hidden in the dark.
He drifted into abyss, he was going down the aisle alone.
At that moment, he then reminisced how he met her.
The alarm kept ringing, it was 7 am in the morning, the ray of sun rising at the East pierced through the windows.
He reluctantly stood up from the bed, cursing the alarm under his breath as though it could hear him.
He woke up with a splitting headache, yesterday night was still blurry to him.
"Ohhh"!, he remembered.

he had brought in a woman he did not know.
They met at a club not to far from town.
He went there when he was going through a tedious phase to drink and drown himself with bottles of beer.
They had sex, but he couldn't remember her face properly.
She disappeared before morning, he looked around his house to ensure nothing was missing.
He lived alone, and he felt it was best.
Even though he longed for warm kisses every morning, a perfect coffee and a woman with a Midas touch.
"Every Woman with her own trouble", he caught himself smiling widely.
He hurriedly went to the bathroom, washed off her scent and kept muttering words with no attachment of sanity whatsoever.