I was victim of my own mindset that it must be kept all problems by yourself because darkness must stay within not to devour another nescience's flare But as the flowers wilt and the leaves grew searer, the shadows started to conquer my feelings and strangle me with the labyrinthine words which couldn't be suppressed any longer And I was too late to reach for someone else's help
I do not have any interactions of love with me but I do imagine how my life will likely to evolve to someone as much as my dad always praises mom's delicacies eventhough it was sometimes salty or sour, and my mom still blushes with dad's cliché lines (I think he read it somewhere) like a teenager wearing shiny pumps and glittering fitted cocktail dress and her lips coated with red lipstick.
I do imagine how our dates will be like. We'll flirt inside of a fastfood chain and there's a possibility while I'm sipping my soda, it will spill because of too much giggle in his jokes and comedies of his life. I may also include on how exaggerated his narration will be. Watching movies that do not suit our tastes because we just want to cuddle or maybe make out throughout the movie at the shadowy corners of the movie theater. We will secretly eat bagels inside of the library because we cannot afford to miss the time to review our tousled notes because examination is rushing behind our backs.
And I will likely to express these silly situations out of my mind through poetry because as much as I wanted to love someone, I'm too wrecked right now to devote myself.
Even if the storm have passed, I started showing off every bits of my shattered pieces to you— every sharp edges, every flaws, every nullified hopes, every broken promises of yesterdays and tomorrows, every dried tears and swollen eyes, every scars on my wrist; everything that makes me crushed And I'm glad that you didn't point my own edges at me, instead you caressed it not minding the blood flowing down on your fingertips You promised you'll be with me as the sky gets darker for my hoping eyes to look upon
I was praying for you not to have a change of heart but maybe my prayers were not loud enough to be granted Nonetheless, I liked it better when you would always pull my hand to tuck it on on your coat and let your warmth cover the coldness of mine rather than the attempts of shunning the prospect of our hands to simply touch I liked it better when you would always greet me with flowers after our petty quarrels rather than welcoming me with your unshaven face, disheveled coat and the reeking of alcohol in you I liked it better when you would plan out our happy ending in a sheet of old tattered paper with your untidy handwriting rather than signing the new printed paper which crumbled the possibility of the life I've been trying to build with you