Sunday, April 29, 2007

; love me no more

Skip, skip, skip, and I still manage not to find a song morose enough to serve as accompaniment to both my mood and the bitter taste of the fag in my mouth.

Thank god for my brother. Before any life threatening, infantile rashness, which I'm fully capable of, trust me, he serves as an acute reminder, that there is a single person out there that I must at least have a last word with, a final embrace before I bid the world farewell.

DaoMingSi's - I love you, gave my all, but again, and again, you shred my heart into pieces. Cliche, I sound like a lovesick twit, no?, but most ept nontheless.

And yet I still forgive, and smile, or at least fake one. Bernice and the family must think I'm a complete nutcase, and an utter disgrace as a girlfriend. Kenneth will smile, and tell me to forget not the good. Would you still, if I share my agony and anguish? Heartbreaking tales, that potray me as the biggest fool alive.

I asked the boyfriend, could you walk through the hell I did, the living hell you made my life? I didn't make it out alive, at least my soul didn't. Broken being that I am, will I ever truly trust and believe in the general good of people, again?

Where is your heart, when I'm not around?

I am not suprised to find welling tears, only wonder why sobs have not commence. Perhaps the glands are exhausted, weary from constant usage. My selflessness disgusts me, is it selflessness or weakness?

Rain is descending ever so gently, is this familiar comfort of your teardrop chorale an atonement dear Lord, your wordless way of making amends? Never have I been more grateful for my little precious lying trustingly, moments before slumber on my lap, her eyes inquiring silently of the salty liquid upon her nose, never grudging that I will wake her when I leave my seat, always forgiving the constant smoke that pollutes her breathing.

I stare at the screen, my fingers resting on the keyboard - I no longer know what to say. I need no pity. This is but a release, you should only read it like how you do a story, how you would have no mean to tell the heroine that you feel her pain.

Perhaps this year is a mistake, I should've left and not postponed my studies, instead of trapping myself in endless dawdling. Perhaps one day I will look back and laugh at my foolishness of how I almost threw my future away. Perhaps you're smiling at how badly I take minor setbacks so early, it is not even a fifth of a century, my life.

But this post will serve as a reminder that at this very moment, I'm tasting the purest of pain.

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