Art Piece

A warm smile, a lingering look,  
and us under the rain,  
were all it took for me to fall again.  
 
Landing softly in the palm of your hand,  
to be kept or to be broken,  
fully surrendered to whichever you choose.
  
I’ll pick up my pieces, so it’s okay to ruin me  
if it means getting a snippet  
of what it feels like to have you.  
 
You are a celestial event,  
a rare sight to catch,  
and I am but a skywatcher  
waiting for your fleeting yet serene glimmer.  
 
You are the perfect, flawless art piece,  
one I sculpted with delicacy,  
mounted on a pedestal  
where you remain far from my grasp.  
 
You are the drizzle  
soothing my withering roots  
under the dried soil,  
and I can’t survive your drought.  
 
A cold demeanor, indifferent words,  
and us so mundane,  
is all it takes for me to collapse all over again.