It's a known fact that someone will always devastate us, shattering us into millions and billions of pieces. However, there will always be someone who will gather all our fragments and pick up our melancholic scattered atoms just for us to be whole, just for us to be consoled.
It should come as no astonishment that such two contrasting qualities can indeed be found within a single individual: someone who possesses the uncanny ability to crush and cure one's being at the same time— you're a tippler and a despiser.
With all the sufferings, I no longer desire to be touched, fixed, or even kissed, not even on the edge of my rim. I would prefer to remain partially broken and partly repaired. Let me have my final toast for the memories we have shared, for the cherries you have tossed.
Instead of having my body forcibly put together, allow me to be a chalice that retains its stem and base, so I could still stand on my own while you take my ability to bear and lead a life as sweet as wine, yet as dark as the blood that continuously flows from my wounds until I wither and doze.
With this, much like the fate of any wine, I shall ultimately spell the demise of what was once great. Even with a broken cup, your blood is my new and everlasting covenant.
Cheers,
Your first Marquise.
