What exactly
is the point
of all this?

To eat
To sleep
To ****
To work
and repeat
for
the following days

The occasional smile
to break the mundane

The daily monotony
is but a realization

So we sleep
we sleep the
nights away
and repeat
for
the following days

Wash away the days pain
with a swig of whisky

The point of
all this, you ask?

is to repeat
each day until
your final breath
depletes the
one chance
you had at
all of this…

There is something oh so irresistible about you.

I sear when I am near you.

Your nurturing aura—a sense as if everything is okay.

I miss—.

I yearn—.

For what we could have been.

Or what we can be.

I have waited long to tell you my stance.

I am deeply wounded—no stitch will cure.

I am sorry.

There are more days ahead, but I’m certain I’m long forgotten.

Perhaps not the man of your ideals, but the man who understands you most.

I don’t believe in mystical creatures and fairytales with happy endings—

But I do believe in patience.

Greater things come to those who actively wait.

You are worth my wait.

With these feelings in heart and thoughts in mind, we can still be.

So until then, I will remain holding on.