I’m baffled for a while, overwhelmed honestly. It’s either you or the poetry I was reading just now. My first thought is to ignore but something feels wrong so I swipe right the very next second. You say my name and my sole focus is on your voice. How badly I missed waking up to this every morning.
There will be days, when you’ll doubt your existence, question your dreams, ruin your relationships, feeling as hollow as humanly possible. It hurts. I understand.
At this moment, you wouldn’t feel like getting up from the bed, opening your eyes because even breathing reminds you of your existence, your hopeless existence you say.
It had always been you. I realized it a little too late. But I apologize, as I looked for you in Fire, Water and maybe even Soil. Fire. Words would do no justice as to express what I feel for her. I met her against the odds and that has made all the difference. She…
It pains all the same knowing you no longer have what you once had. But it’s liberating to know it’s no one’s fault. It isn’t theirs and supposedly not yours. We could love someone for million reasons and not really like them for another million. You could love them for what they have achieved, for how pleasant they look or the qualities they possess but not really like them for how they make you feel. The way she gossip, the way she dominates, the way he keep dodging meaningful conversations or the way he whispers sweet nothings when he wants something from you.
It’s been so long
Since I felt this way.
Like a stolen first kiss
On a busy Monday
The Song you sent
As it happened out of blue
I play on repeat
For it reminds me of you
Darling I lied to you, every time I said you were the best thing that has ever happened to me. I lied to you, nodding my head, when you asked me if I was happy with you. I lied to you, when I said I understand all the reasons when you didn’t call. Or drop a text.
And worst, I lied to you, even as I walked away, when I made you believe that for the brief time we were together, we loved truly.
I knew I was falling but there was no ground, no side walls, no ceiling. I tried screaming but nothing came. The darkness was too intense and it chilled me to the bones. I knew it was time, time to give up. But then I hit the ground. The reality. And that’s when I finally woke up from my slumber.
There was something in his gaze. Something deep and raw. The way he looked at her. I got it then. He loved her, and it was killing him. He wouldn’t get over her, I whispered, he can’t.”
His life is a prison.
– His heart is caged.
A long gone lover,
– whose memory has aged.
He couldn’t hurt,
– the one he care.
When do you become an adult? At 16, 18, or 21? Is it when you get your first job, when you get married, or when you have a child?
Honestly, I don’t remember when I became one. Maybe at the age of 9, when I started staying home alone , looking after myself & my house when my parents went to parties and gatherings