140301
this date always held a meaning for me , well, for the past 4 years, after an event that took place on the same date.
I used to write every single bit of moments that I remembered on pieces of papers and crumple them next, as if that was a way to make me forget but that didn't really work.
I kept reminded about the day again and again. day in and day out. and I went to school everyday expecting for the same playful glare to be thrown by the same person.
and I didn't mind if I had to wait forever.
that was dumb, really. to wallow in the past, to convince myself that the history will repeat, to make someone the center of my universe already aanndddd that was exactly how I started losing sight of myself.
flashbacks always ran by in a flash.
purple
ice cream
glances
butterflies
stop
yellow
cakes
smiles back
flutter
stop
staircase
walk in
see him
pretend
stop
stopped in tracks
captured by the moment
blush crept up
gaze locking
clock ticked
mind running
feet paralyzing
clock ticked
fade
tear.
oh how I used to force them out ,tracing my cold cheeks on silent sleepless nights , grieving over things that never ended yet never started. letting them dry out on the same page your name was written. tracing blades on skin, letting it draw blood to make the pain seem worth it.
it wasn't worth it.
I should have known better.
sorry.
YOU ARE READING
Wishful Thinker
Poetry/wɪʃfʊl θɪŋkə/ . of the unreachable dreams . "you don't understand me, you never do you never see words the way I always do now I will bombard you with words see if you will ever be lost for words" started : 180219 ended : 181205
