This love is taking its toll on me.
I wish I knew why God let us meet.
I'd like to believe it's not a trial,
for I have been sorely losing.
I'd like to choose not to believe anymore,
but that was never mine for choosing.
Living with regrets and trying to forget, or living happily in ignorance and in love with you? Can I even choose? #Confused
Here I am a thousand miles away
Writing you letters I burn every day
Dreaming about the words you don't say
Waiting it out until moments too late.
Burning matches just to swallow up the flame.
Under my eyelids everytime I try to go to sleep, or when I simply need to close my eyes your image always startles me.
Written in the skies during the day with every passing plane the trail of dust left behind always spells out your name.
Sparkling with the stars every night, their glow reminds me of that you I used to know.
The burning sensation on the tip of my tongue every time I take a sip of my morning coffee, you're the heat radiating from my mug reminding me of the warmer days.
The thoughts I try to bury under all the things I need to do, the reason I need to hurriedly stay busy to postpone thoughts of you.
You're my overseas distraction.
Without you, I'd be a fraction of the person I pretend to be.
Yeah, I'm still writing about you even though we barely talk. Yeah, I still miss you. Yeah, I'm an idiot.
Tried to find a way inside but I remained unsuccessful. There's a part of me somewhere in there while the rest of me lives in despair. It doesn't seem like there's much here to carry on. I hold on.
I hold on for something. Something I don't know, something I can only hope for. I know what could happen if I left. I know what will happen if I stay.
It's evaporating. We're evaporating. I'm shrinking. I don't know if you are too, and that's just it; I don't know.
Sometimes I'm too busy to think about you but when I'm free, I'm really not.
I've started talking to the insects
crawling along the bedroom floor.
They scuttle away
when there's nothing to say,
but I still talk some more.
I find myself conversing with
the paint on these four walls.*
They stare back at me
but I continue much like before.
I text myself
inside my head at night
before I close my eyes.
I find that these conversations
can get lonely sometimes;
atleast I get replies.
I woke up this morning to find an insect on my bed. I reprimanded it for being there, and dropped it off outside. I forgot to say goodbye.
My stomach feels like deadweight.
My arms are about to fall off.
My lungs feel like they're paper frail.
My teeth hurt from smiling.
My mind has gone on overdrive.
My heart's functioning automatic.
Lately I haven't felt anything but
the air that I'm breathing.
Theres a whole world revolving right now and I'm just sitting here wasting water.
People want a taste of death but
I want to feel alive again.
There are things I have to do
but I lie awake unnmoving for hours.
I lie to everyone I make contact with,
every ******* day.
Deep down I feel the tremors of an earthquake that may never surface.
I wonder if he's a nice guy.
— The End —