Monthly Archives: July 2015

To leave

I let my guard down because you insisted. And just as I had put down my defences, yours went straight up. A brick wall built at the speed of light. I have no idea how to climb it. I have no idea how to peak through the cracks. You’re quite the construction worker. Well done, quite the task you’ve achieved. And quite the mess you’ve left behind…

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A house

To call it home
Yet have no idea
What the expression entails.

A Sunday

Behind screen
Scroll
Words echo
Everything distant
In slow motion
Wide awake yet fast asleep
This is not how I imagined it to be.

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An excessiveness

You know that feeling
When you know you’re supposed
To be feeling
Yet you have no idea
What to feel?
Hate that fucking feeling.

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A million

I am convinced
There are a million and one
Better things
Than you
Yet every time I count
I lose track
Only reaching a million
And I wonder
How many other things
I’ve miscalculated
In my life.

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An awaited walk

She proclaimed
One day I’m going to walk down the aisle to him
He just doesn’t know it yet

He exclaimed
One day I’m going to stand waiting for her
She just isn’t ready yet

So years went by
A falling for others
A wait for another
A walk in faulty direction
Until one day
Simple words
I do.

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To unlove

To feel
And unfeel
Because the vocabulary expressed
Bathed in uncertainty
A speeding trickle of uneasiness
Turned to cascade of angst

To do no wrong
Yet desiring to undo
Because the looks exchanged
Possessed with dishonor
An abandonment of sincerity
Turned to eruption of disdain

To write
And unwrite
Because when written
Realizing
This is not a letter
For there is no envelope to seal
And the page
Is completely blank.

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To whom it may concern

The almost lover
A well-deserved title
With oh so much sadness
Hung to every syllable.

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To W

The thing which pained me the most was her honest reflection of her incapability to love. How she envied the ones who could feel, be it heartache or heartbeat. Her words stuck with me. Here I was in the middle of my heartbreak, feeling each stab, and there she was, feeling nothing, not even a pinch. I wondered what was worse. We stood separately, each representing a half of better to have loved and lost than to never having loved at all.
When put in context, my heartache became pitiful and petty. I had loved and I had lost. She had never loved yet she had lost it all. I wanted to try to write down some words of comfort for her but I don’t know if I can. I’m convinced that she will learn how to love one day. And I hope the universe compensates her by never having her lose anyone ever again.

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