Oh dear

≫sixteen.

o h d e a r

why are people so selfish?

why do they dodge questions based on the weather and say that they feel depressed like how a storm ends up.

when infact, the rain is not a sign of depression, it is a sign of giving life and a sign of moving on, letting go like how clouds burst crystals.

the worst part is that, when you say something deep and very personal and hide it with your mask, wishing and hoping for them to see it.

but their eyes are enough with seeing the mask, and don't bother to think about that.

i'm sick and tired of that gabe, no matter what we do, or say or think, deep inside we're all selfish and self-centered.

pride clouds our mind like a caterpillar wraps himself up on his own cocoon, sleeping for days. what we haven't learned from the caterpillar, is that it turns into a creature with wings.

evolve, for the best and not for the better.

that the pride that cocooned us should be shed and swallowed to make us free and okay.

but why couldn't we do that simple task? because we are too pre-occupied with collecting things that build up our pride, layer it.

trapping us inside the cocoon forever, until we find a way to come out. but late is late, and tardiness is important in life.

pride, butterflies. selfishness and crabs.

"what does your heart say?"

"selfish things."

"like what?"

"i am, i am."

"then ask me what my heart says, then."

"what does your arteries echo, gabriel?"

"that i am yours, yours."

but you weren't a caterpillar, my love.

you were nothing but a beautiful dragonfly soaring it's fairy-like winds with patterns that define you, complex yet amazing.

maybe if this slug of me, could stretch my eyes and try to take a glimpse of your wings touched by glimmers of sunlight.

you are wise, you are my dragonfly my love.

but soon, a frog or a beast will sling it's tongue at you and eat you whole, forcing oblivion to take place in you.

when you came into my doorsteps, i never felt happier, my sickness came to fade away as soon as it came.

boy, no one else was here to take care of this old little fragile slug. life is a jungle, and sickness is just a piece of pebble on the dusty ground.

then again, love was just one overgrown beautiful forest that makes you lose your mind, forcing all your attention to it's being- until you're lost.

"..... soooo."

"heave ho!"

"is this what you call conversing, avery? i swear, my forehead hurts so bad for another facepalm."

"awee, you have a boo-boo? doesh it huwt? do you want me to kiss the pain away lil gabe?"

"... stop that."

"hmm? stop what?"

"that- that lip.. lip biting t-thing..."

"and why should i?"

"..god, avery.. you're making it so hard not to endure th-this this.. friend complex thing.."

"friend complex thing?"

".. you know what, can i have that boo-boo kiss now?"

gabe, i'm crashing, i'm falling, i'm flying.. that's the problem with being stuck in the woods of love, you don't know if you're an insect, or if you're a ray of sunshine, or a floating pollen.

oh dear, euphoria isn't just a drug, but a feeling that you get when you're in a situation where you can feel this feeling more than infatuation.

Sincerely,

The girl who kissed your scars.