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You're too afraid to try,
The fear of abandonment lingers,
So you decided to say goodbye
Without closure, favor,
Nothing to savor

You lifted the burden
But little did you know,
That the truth is
It's never easy, letting go

So you're left feeling empty
Nothing but skin,
Soon to realize that detaching
Is a deadly sin,
Its true men make mistakes,
that I can bet,
But baby, you haven't tasted it yet,

The human bond is a work of art,
You'll know how strong it is
When you pull it further,
Apart.
Is it love,
When you always end up fogiving?
No matter how painful it was
to see the other person leaving

Is it love,
When all you see is perfection?
Never paying attention to thier flaws
Giving them nothing but affection

Is it love,
When you wish them the best?
Even when it means it isn't you
At least you know that they are blessed
 May 2017 teacath
Adlina Nawawi
LVI
 May 2017 teacath
Adlina Nawawi
LVI
If you love this air,
I will breathe out everything that is in this cage, so it can be converted into fresher ones, until all of them leave this body. And I would not be at ease, until all the morsels, atoms, come into one with the particles of your being.

If you love the city,
I will build one from scratch, bare hands, stones thrown everywhere for a place of love. With these knuckles bleeding, my blood will then turn into a clear river that runs through the cracks of the town.

If you love the colour green,
I will cut through sticks and stones, to make up a whole grassland, splayed wide enough for a town to come alive, and half a space for a meadow. For the picnic we will have at every noon of every sunny day, just like the ones at the prairies.

If you love the rain,
I will learn to sit still on the pavement, to not quiver and run when it rains. I’ll play in it, regardless of the fear I deeply have for the thunders and lightnings. When it finally comes, I’ll stay closer with you, to feel like I am home— even when standing amidst the chaos that the sky brings.

And if you love me,
I will be me, even when being myself is something I despise at times, when hating myself seems most comfortable. I will start and bring good to myself, to love every piece of my actuality that is scattered like the remnants of a hurricane that stops by every 5 minutes. To be delicately in love with all I have to offer. Because you love me.

— The End —