I am the elder, I am the wise

At odds with superstitions but be it 11:11 or on the eyelashes,
I longed for you selfishly upon dying meteors
going to meet the fate of ashes.  
Yes, I manifested you at least more than the number of times I lied to my mom for tryst,  
just to end up with the guilt of loving you a little less than an old flame I never mentioned on the list. 

They say shattered glass cemented together can still hold wine
but don’t offer it to the one you love,
one arrow, and you’ll kill seven less than nine.

You alienated me within some two hundred sq.feet of your room, if i compute.      
Yet I held you close when you flew to your roots.
Maybe because of my love admission
or your desire to explore all the substitutes.  
All that you hid between the crafted lies :
‘’He is just a friend i met online.
I like you to bits, what a disguise.
Self love, busy schedule,
I am the elder, i am the wise.’’

But a starved body cares less.
Dressed an extra layer over my vulnerable wounds, ‘cause I can’t risk another mess  
and distress and plastic caress.

You know, what’s worse than walking along a cliff,
an over-thinker falling head over heels for an uncommunicative.
But who am I to even ask for it ?
No labels, as you said.
Bullets in my gun, refrained to pull the trigger I held.

It might’ve been success if i never waited for hours to see you,
if I didn’t make something hand wrought to make love through,
if I wouldn’t have worn my heart over the sleeves
or if i never promised you fidelity, unlike you.

All this started when a 2004 born was afraid
to fall in love with someone born in the last year of 1990’s decade.
Wish i had asked for the reciprocation and not merely thy existence.
A mended heart designed again, much obliged for your assistance.

It was honeymoon until it was not.
I was me until I was not.
Trust me i was kind in portraying thee,
otherwise i would’ve mentioned the gun that I held, but you ruthlessly shot.