How long are we going to play
this stupid game of pretend
where the coldest and most ruthless
and most indifferent of us,
will be the winner?
are we still playing this game?
Or is this for real?
Because love, I’m afraid you are winning.
Panic rising at my throat
Heart beating fast
Knees going weak and
Hands getting clammy and cold
But I run fast as I could
Faster than I ever run in my life
Down to the dark alley
Of this neighborhood, I’m not familiar with
I reach a dead end
I hear their footsteps coming
And their callous laughter ringing closer and closer.
He loves her in the most quiet ways, never saying I love you’ s, never doing grand gestures of love in public like those she often sees in the movies with the girl holding a bouquet of flowers from the leading guy, or like those that her girlfriends’ boyfriends do, publicly announcing their love in social media or being touchy feely in public. He never did those for her, but for some reason, his quiet love, that never ceases nor fades, still roars louder to her than the rest of the world begging for her attention.
In response to Daily Post: Silence
Witches are one of the most dangerous people you could ever meet, because they know how to harness both love and dark energies. How someone chooses to use love or dark is a matter of past encounters. Tell me of a witch that uses light and love, and I’ll tell you of a story of a girl that has been loved unconditionally by a man. Tell me of a witch that uses the dark forces and I’ll tell you of a story of abuse, heartbreak, and betrayal. For every girl that turns ruthlessly dark, is a boy with a smug smile who watched her burn and die multiple times and still claim it’s her fault all along, while he was the one who hiked her on the stake and throw the first embers of evil fire to her soul.
When I was young, I wanted to believe that I’m the kind of girl that book authors write about, the heroines, those that could fight and ride their own horses, those that could hold their own swords, battle with the dragons, monsters, and evil witches, and command a whole wizarding world. As I grew up, nothing much changes. I wanted to believe that I’m the kind of girl who is independent and self-capable, a girl who could hold her own self, fight her own battles, win this world with charm and intellect, make some outstanding achievements, and solve her own problems without needing anyone’s help.
So why then, here and now, when you kiss me, I feel like folding on myself? And when you touch me, I feel like a porcelain doll too vulnerable on your touch, and all I wanted to do is to curl up and sleep in your arms, and be engulfed with your warmth embrace and presence. What happen to my dreams of courage and self-independence? Why is it, here and now, I want to believe that maybe this time, I do not have to keep my eyes open all the time to fight the monsters that plague me before I sleep? Maybe this time, I could be as fragile, vulnerable, and trusting as I could be. Something I’d never been.
My words will weave its way, to every corners, and creases, and part of your life, stumping any growth and positivity in your life. Success will never be easy again on you. And you say I am negative? Very well then. Let all my negativities come into your life and may your future be filled with it. Let see how it feels like. May all your blessings be undone. And everything else will be your failures, accountable to you, yours and yours alone. I am breaking this as I am writing this, my words shall not be accountable to this and it shall not go back to me, for you bring upon your own demise.
A negative response to today’s daily prompt: stump. For the person who thinks I’m too negative. Cheers.
The day I said I love you, I plucked the words I would say out of the ether and weaved magic in it, just so I could present it elegantly to you. I laced my words with sugar cubes so that it would taste sweet in your mouth, and poured warm honey in it so that it would melt on your tongue.
The day I said I love you, I casted my name with a memory spell so that my name would linger and last a little longer on your lips, and you wouldn’t mistake me for someone else.
I waved a wand to still my racing heart, and made a last wish to a shooting star.
I guess my charms and all those preparations failed to work with you, because the day I said I love you, you laughed out loud and crushed my beautiful words under your foot, and dismissed me with a wave of hand.
You said I’m a fool.