Hinging on a Wedge.

I thought I knew You well.

There were many other sporadic thoughts that wafted capriciously. Either You have changed or I've never known You at all.

What have You left me with?

Where are the strung alphabets that were once cleverly crafted?

Where dialogue was formerly torrential, now silence hinges in the dead of the night.

Words went hand in hand with deeds. Multiplicity had no qualms about catching a glimpse of the facade - amidst shifting sands tucked away conveniently from blissful ignorance.

Days gave way to weeks. Weeks mounted to months, and months, formed years.
Childhood, adolescence, adulthood.

Half a lifetime for the Lie to be.

Half my lifetime.

And I, the wedge, should have known that my functionality ceases when doors are closed.