Maybe some people aren’t destined to find love
no matter how many times you knock the door, the House remains abandoned and nothing ever fills your chest,
at some point, your ribs cave in and you suffocate on your own blood
A tragic death
Maybe no matter how many times you sell your body, hoping someone will make love to your remains, it is still never enough
Maybe the conversations filled with laughter and dreams, remain just that; empty echoes of a forever lost in space & time
Maybe no matter how many people wrap their arms around you, you’re still fragile, you’re still a feather floating along the wind hoping someone would turn you to something more;
Something meaningful.
Maybe no matter how many times you cross paths, you’ll always remain strangers, meeting through parallel universes and it’s always the wrong time or the wrong place or the wrong something but never the right anything
Maybe some people aren’t destined to find love
To be love
To be in love
To feel love
They’re destined to drown in love
To suffer in love
To love but not be loved
To die of love because no one was capable of holding such vast amounts of love
Maybe some people are lonely
Maybe it’s me.
It’s always been me.