"I keep waiting for her to come home."
There were tears falling down from her eyes but yet she didn't make an effort to wipe them off. What's the point of it? What's the point of anything, anymore? Nothing meant to her anymore now that she knew for the fact that the most important person in her life, who was there for her this whole time, was never ever coming back.
"I keep remembering about the time we had our dinner together and talk about things that didn't matter to anyone except us or the time we slept late just to debate on which ice cream flavor is better: mint or green tea, or the time we kissed until we ran out of breathe."
She talked as if there was no one else in the room, only her and the memories and everything in between.
"I keep waiting for her to come home."
"But she never did."
^ ^ ^
This post was a tribute for what had happened to Orlando and I know that it's pretty late to post this, but I kept thinking about it over and over. How in the world can a person be a judge over another person's life? We have no right to take someone's life for any, any reason. This event has proved that love no longer reign in this world, and that thought itself has made me sad.
"Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law."
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Written Bullets
RandomA box filled with one shot(s), poetry, excerpts from a book i'll never write, and other useless junks you can find in here, for free.
