Browse Tag by creative writing
365, Prose, Writings

Better Days

You always held on to him, long enough to hurt not only your arm but also your heart. It’s a pain, an ache, that you kept on bearing and enduring until such time that the pain turned into numbness. The numbness made you lose your grip to him a little bit, and suddenly this made you feel a little bit better. So you try to loosen your grip to him a little bit more, and more, and with every space you create, and every distance you make, your heart feels a little bit lighter, a little bit better, until such time you realize that you’re actually a little bit more happier now.

– – –

// I‘m probably going back to writing again. Yey! ☺️ I think I regained most of my lost energies. 😁 I wish writing does not exhaust me this much. 😭 

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365, Prose, Random Thoughts, Writings

The After

Sometimes, things happen. Unexpected ones. And it changes your life in an instant. All your prayers, all your problems, and all the things that once bothered you before, all the things that you thought were unsolvable just dissolve and vanish away in an instant like a smoke. You can’t even pinpoint when and where it all happen, or the specific moment or event that marks the change. But for some reason, you know without a doubt that your now standing on the after of before.

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365, Prose, Writings

This is how I’d fallen out of love of him

This is how I’d fallen out of love of him:

I didn’t. It just that one day I woke up, and I just.. I just didn’t feel anything for him. Not love, not like, not hate, nor anger, not even sadness or disappointment, just.. nothing. Like my heart entered a sudden oblivion, and it just forgot. It forgot to remember to care for him or to think of him, and in a blink of an eye, everything about him, every feelings I associated with him is erased, and he didn’t matter anymore. Like he never really mattered at all.

And I’m okay with it. I mean, it’s a lot like looking at a blank grey canvas, what do you suppose to feel about it? Nothing, right? Nothing and just okay.

//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #33

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365, Prose, Writings

Not all who wander are lost

Your soul feels so much like home, and when I met you, I finally understood what they mean when they say, ‘Not all who wander are lost’.

For I always find myself wandering back in your arms.

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365, Prose, Random Thoughts, Writings

What hurts the most

It hurts, isn’t it? To receive from someone else the same love and attention you so much crave from him.

But that’s not what hurts the most.

To see him giving that same love and attention you want from him to someone else over and over again. To know that he’s fully capable to show you that love, but he just didn’t choose you, and he keep on not choosing you.

I think, that’s what hurts the most.

//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #31

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365, Poetry, Writings

Sing me a song

Sing me a lullaby,
Of words too deep all I could do is feel,
Sing me songs from the ancient moon,
Of how it loves the sea and its tides,
And all the creatures underneath it.
Sing me the songs of the wolves,
Of their whisperings and howlings,
Of their pain and anguish,
And of how they love the moon so much,
All they could do is yearn,
And hate its moonlight glow.
Or better yet,
Sing me the songs of the winds,
Whispering beyond what you can hear,
And how they carry each wishes, unheard prayers, and unsung love notes,
To the hearts of the right ones
When the time is right.

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365, Prose, Random Thoughts, Writings

Be still my treacherous heart

You asked me one time what do I need. And I almost said it to you right there and then. That what I need most is the power not to break, the power not to break under pressure, under love, under your heated gaze. The power not to break whenever you walk away from me, or whenever you’re near me, or whenever you hurt me with your words and with your stupid actions and inactions. The power to walk away from you and never look back. The power to never fall in your arms again every time you came back.

The power to still this treasonous, treacherous heart of mine.

To say I don’t love you anymore and mean it this time.

//excerpts from a book i’ll never write #30

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