"Do you save what's left or what you are afraid to lose?"

...maybe I should just throw it back to the ocean where it belongs.

"'Cowardice is the most terrible of vices.' Bulgakov wrote that. You should know."

…everybody's scared of something.

It feels like what happened and what I've felt for you
Were just a paragraph in a series made of indefinite volumes.
To be honest, I am unsure whether or not what we had is enough to be considered an epic,
Worthy to be idealized and remembered throughout the rest of what will become my history.
Yet, what I know is that for a certain time,
Though infinitesimal compared to the rest of my life,
I was willing to ignore every danger, hopelessness and fear just so I could give in to your light,
If that would mean I would be able to make you stay.

It wasn't that much but I guess it was enough to call it real.

It was strange not to feel anything at all
When all was said and done and every point has been proven wrong.
What once had been a matter of heaven and hell
has now turned into a mere speck of dust
Floating in front of her eyes.
She let it blur in her vision,
And then she shrugged and turned away,
forgetting it even before it was gone.

The universe has been out of sorts lately but with respect to what I've been through
and all the battles I've won,
I will look down at the eyes of the devil
and spat on his feet just to let him know that even though he was able to make me shiver for a moment,
I'm still going laugh at his face and I will scare him more than the angels did.

I'll be off to freeze up his hell because now I'm ******* ******.

Maybe I am just pushing it too hard,
Holding on to that faded chance that this might work out.
And maybe this might really work out if he tried,
But he's not really trying at all.

It is a road less traveled yet even a
long abandoned pathway has to end.
As I tried to slowly raise my foot off the ground, I caught my breath in desperation to pause the moment
only to find out that time is a moving picture playing continuously without mercy.

There will be this one fascinating thing which will come to take over most of who you are only to pass,
Fluttering its wings to an escape,
Dissolving into air.
I try, withstanding all my will to resist, to anticipate the arrival of the dark reel of film where the closing credits will soon roll in.

My body shivers as I wish to preserve the remaining last few pages,
But shivering might break my bones and I know
That it is a terrible, torturous thing
To want someone who wants someone else.

I once lived a night when shooting stars rain down from the sky until morning.
My sight blurred to pastel ball of lights that filled the streets outside my window.
My feet itch to silently walk that empty road,
My eyes beaming with a desire to keep everything inside the pockets of my shirt.

Everything was perfect until the lighting struck, truth carved deep in my skin,
Screaming in a deafening tone that all of it was just a dream.