Biyernes, Abril 18, 2014

that once

i can only wish he would have noticed me in a different way.

my heart was filled with delight every time you were in sight, hearing your voice, or just listening to the rhythm of nothing when you were close and there was nothing at the moment between us but our heartbeats. that i was once so enthused to wake up on an unexciting day rising to the thought that the feeling would go on forever causing my lips to stretch up to my ears lingering  ‘til the evening as i then close my eyes & look forward to more tomorrows..

that once you  tried to experience feeling the same way;  and you’d fondly think of me when you retire upon your bed at night, imagining me. that you’d also spare a thought once in a while longing for just a sight or my mere presence. that your heart was filled with songs & the melodies which are ever new to you are playing over again those days, confusing, conflicting, and returning to haunt your empty moments piping but a tune to an endeared spirit.

that once
you fancied your lips touching mine as our arms locked, us promising love on whatever else we choose to do unchanging even over the changing times. that the mem’ries of us together became a friend to you & a constant companion through thin and your thinnest times when everyone has deserted and all that was left were your broken pieces.

…that i’d only thought about those things. as it turns out however, the reverse.

that i once wrote your name over and over again but never got tired, only frustrated.

that there was a toilsome hankering buried deep in the thoughts that depletes & consumes me from within. the gift you gave  which will be kept forever—will bear hopes that someday we’ll meet again by any means. that up until now even if i tried i failed to not think of us and what could’ve been resonating on to my quiet days.

that once i looked up and tried counting the stars & plucking them out with my hands; the ridiculousness of yearning for your embrace i could only heave above before resigning into the twinkly thoughts of make-believes.

that i have loved and got hurt. embracing the pain scar conceding therefore to the thought that the scar is but a friend & a constant companion through my emptiness.

and that once, i never really believed in Love but found myself waking up smiling on a happy thought one morning because i never would have thought i ever could experience it myself.

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