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.
There are times that all I wanted to do is to cling on to you, kiss you, nuzzle your neck, inhale your scent, remain in your embrace, be surrounded with your oh so good energy, and never let go. And there are times that I’d always tell you to “let me go.” The confusion must be maddening, isn’t? On those times I tell you to let go are those times that I am hurting the most. And I do want you to let go, because as much as there are days that I will be bright and loving again, there will be times like this, times that all I wanted to do is to push you away, and run away from you, and hide under my bed, and curse you, and punch you in the face if I could. Because it was you who put me into this so much mess that I don’t know how to escape to. It was you who makes me feel so unholy, I feel like I’m falling from grace all over again.
It was you who first watch me fall from grace, don’t you remember? For I can still taste your name on my lips as I fell, and as you watched me fall with your cold dead eyes, and I realized my mistake for uttering your name for your help. So please, don’t ask me to trust you, don’t expect me to trust you, because as much as I do trust you and I wanted to trust you, I will always battle with myself not to.
I’m falling for a second time, and I wonder if you put love potion on my drinks.
Don’t expect me to love you when he knows my demons’ name and he knows how to hush them so I could sleep, while you just know me by my name and you only see me when I’m all smiles, beautiful, and happy. Then you always say that I’m beautiful, but that’s all you could ever tell me about me, isn’t it? What if the beauty fades? What if you see the demons inside me? They aren’t at all pretty. Can you hush them like he did? Believe me, you couldn’t handle what’s inside me. I tried a million times, and I still couldn’t.
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.
Darling, babe, love
dear, honey, sweetheart
there are different kinds of endearment
different ways of saying I love you
but none of it compared
when you say my name in full.
hearing my name
coming from your lips
makes me feel a lot more special
than I really am.
Do you remember how when we were kids, you taught me how to swim? And when we grew up, you always told me to stay away from waters unless you’re near? You knew how clumsy I could be on all the wrong moments.
But I never worry then.
You were always there to be my lifeguard whether in swimming or in real life. You have always been my floatation device when I’m about to drown, and my lookout when I’m already wading near the deep ends of the waters. You never let me go through any of it alone. That’s why when you’d left, I had a hard time adjusting and keeping afloat, even when I’m not in the waters, even when my feet is flatly on the ground. I feel like I’ll never learn how to float again, and my feet will never find its stability again.
I wish you pushed me harder in lessons.
But how can I blame you? That’s how you’ve always been, comfortable in being relied to, and that’s how I’ve always been, quitting before I even started and just comfortable on depending on you. You said that’s why we clicked on everything.
Sometimes when I’m near the beach, I can still hear your voice ringing through my ears, loud and clear, like it was just yesterday, reminding me to keep to the shore and to not go through the deep waters unless if I’m with you.
Sometimes, I go to the beach alone, because that is when your voice is loudest, that is where my memories of you are the most clear, roaring above the ocean’s wave. And most because, that is where I lose you.
I don’t think I will ever forgive the ocean for never giving you back to me.
Until now, I never manage to learn how to swim, and I’ve never been comfortable again with waters. I don’t think I will ever be, since you’ve been gone.
**…continuation from a post titled, 17.
She dances under the full moon light, all night long, keeping up with the tradition of her kin of fairies and nymphs and tree spirits, hoping maybe this time under the full moon glow, she’ll meet her knight in shining armor.
But her nightly escapades only leave her with blodied feet.
She’s lost on a wrong century.
Foolish me would always wonder,
Why do I feel so incomplete?
When I put a little bit of my soul,
in each pieces I write,
and in every pair
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.
They say you can never imagine what doesn’t exist. You can only imagine what exists and what will exist, but never what will never exist.
This is true.
I can see alternate futures. The different choices we make leads to different versions of the futures, branching in and out like that of a winding road, sending us to a completely different path.
This is our versions:
1. There is this version of us, in an alternate future, where you choose me instead of her. This doesn’t end well. We will grow to resent each other as time passes by. You will be irritable and moody, and I will grow to hate you. It will be a love-hate relationship where there will be too many fights, and make up sex, and not enough nourishing love. The thing is, we will play too many games that will both hurt us, you will still love me and I will still love you, but our dreams will be better than reality.
2. There is this version of us, in an alternate future, where you stick with what is now. Never changing, never rocking the boat, moving through the same motions day in and day out, never changing your feelings for me, or thoughts, and actions, believing and swearing that on next life, you’ll choose me and we will live happily ever after. The thing is, I can see this far. On next life, you’ll recognize me instantly, without a doubt, but I won’t recognize you. When you find me, I would love someone else by then, and I’ll be holding the same hands I’ll be holding in this lifetime if you choose this path. You will realize then that I’m living a good and satisfying life, and you will decide to keep your distance. This next life maybe your worst life of all the lifetimes you will ever live. You will live a life of unproductivity and drunkenness. Partly because you will see what I see now, that on the next next life, there will be no more us, or on the other futures to come. And we will never be together again. There are futures that seems final, and there are futures that are still changing. This version seems final. Proceed with caution.
3. There is this version of us, in an alternate future, one that ends quite well. Quite related to the one above, only that in this one, you decided to change your feelings for me, without bitterness or animosity, just good intentions and well-wishes, and in this path you’ll live a life of happiness. I, on the other hand, will live a life of contentment and happiness. It will be a good and satisfying life to both of us, separately but running parallel with each other. Your ups will be my ups, my downs will be your downs. On next life though, I’ll be holding the same hands I’ll be holding in this life, should you choose this path. The thing is, as I’m writing this, the future is still changing. On next life, I may be holding yours. And this version is still open-ended.
4. Then there is this version of us, in an alternate future, you ‘fight’ for me and not just ‘choose’ me, whatever that means. Remember that I can’t see the hows, just only the outcome. In this version, you are happy, and I am happy, and we are together. For some reason, this version will stretch for eternity, going on and on, without us needing a next life. The thing is, this future doesn’t exist before, and I have never seen it until only now. I can still see it now quite clearly. I do not know what change. But thank you.
There are many, many more other versions of futures that I haven’t explored, and going through all of it would give me quite a book to write.
5. There is this version when I choose someone else I know now, and I will live an unhappy miserable life, and you will live an unhappy life too, and we will just repeat this same life on the next. If I will choose this path, I see that on next life, I would choose the person I described in 2nd and 3rd versions instead of you, and I will still be happy then.
6. Then, there’s this version of what will happen when I choose to run away from you now. I might forever lose the opportunity to meet the person I’ve seen in the 2nd and 3rd versions. And I ‘might’ end with the unhappy one. After this, I cannot see what’s next for me or for you, which is quite scary, though it can also mean that this version for now is not yet set in stone, unless if I choose this path.
On the 1st version, I will die. On the 2nd and 3rd versions, I ‘might’ die. On the 4th, I do not see death. The 5th and 6th, I haven’t explored yet.
You see, there are futures that I can change, and there are futures that I cannot change. I did my best with those I can change.
Ours, however, is something that I cannot change, because this is yours to change.
So love, please proceed with caution.
There’s something so painful about chasing the memories and love of a dead person. It’s like trying to hope for a better future, a future you know that wouldn’t involve them anymore. A future you once thought would be all about you and him.
I heard our song on the radio while on my way to office, and I was hurled back in time in an instant. It’s still hard to grasp what happened, like it seems to happen just yesterday and I was on the pavement of the hospital, crying my heart and soul out.
What you did, why you did, the theories behind it, the mechanics, I all understand it now. I studied it for you. I just wish I’d understood it before when you’re still clinging to me for life support, like I’m your anchor that keeps you from floating away from this world that demands too much of you.
I wish I held your hand tighter, and hugged you a little bit longer, and listened to you a little bit more patiently. But I didn’t. I took you a little bit for granted because I thought you’d be my forever, that you’ll always be here on my side, that you’ll always be my partner in crime.
When you left us, the world stop spinning for me as if for punishment. That’s the time I also realized that time could bend, that time could stand still and that it could stop just like that for me, the bright noise of the world dimming in a blink of an eye, the curtains closing, and I’m left with nothing but your memories and the white noise behind.
And contrary to what you always say to me, I learned that there’s such thing as too late. And I’d been too late. I’m so sorry.