i said,
"i wasn't your first,
you left a trail of kisses
on other girls."

you said,
"they all taste the same,
but there's something different
about your mouth."

i said,*
"since you're my first,
i have yet to have a taste of the others'.
yet the moment our lips met,
i was convinced that
i don't ever wanna taste any other mouth
but yours
ever again."
and you said,
"you may not be my first,
but i sure hope that
you're gonna be my last."
When do you know that it's cheating?
*When you let the feeling grows.
And then you did.
Jealousy changes you—it completely shifts your mind and paradigm and way of thinking and way of seeing things.

Jealousy  makes your brain cloudy with anger, unable to think clear.

Jealousy makes you succumb to the gruesome power of fear.

Jealousy raises up your ego in a heartbeat, making you defending yours like your whole life clings to it.

Jealousy takes your will to love—if it's still there at all. Because who knows loving someone could be this exhausting?

Jealousy makes you a repugnant, revolting human being.

...and jealousy has successfully done every single thing above, to me.
I am a repugnant, revolting human being.
fear is such an ugly thing;

it gives you a sense of insecurity,
knowing just how many things that can go wrong.

it gives you a sense of uncertainty,
unknowing just what are the odd
of the things that can go wrong—
or would they ever happen at all.

it numbs you,
making you lose the ability to feel.

because why would you even choose
to feel only to get hurt,
if you could shut yourself down
from the whole world
before you got hurt?

it alters your mind,
turning you from a logical human being
to a big incoherent, irrational pile of mess.

and the most frightening thing of all,
is that fear scares you so much
that you can't do anything
but giving in to it.
...but I'm still afraid to lose you.
i've always been mesmerized by the concept that sometimes a home isn't always in the form of closed doors and four sides of walls.
sometimes a home isn't always in the form of empty rooms and echoing goodbyes.

sometimes a home is a person.
and for me, that person is you.

there's no place like home,
there's no place like you.
inspired & based on a phrase by steffi
i was a mere withering grass, you were a morning dew.
you succumbed to the power of gravity, i let the wind blew me away — we crossed path.

i was a palpitating mess with faint pulses beneath my skin;
and so were you, i found out.

we still are.
"you know what you are?"
"you're both the stormy night and the calm morning after."
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