She was walking bare-footed in an interminable road of sorrow.
He was peering with hesitation
in a tenebrous space;
like a pendulum,
going back and forth, lost.
She was a walking deception, twisting tears into smiles,
fooling even the keen eyes.
He was a lament.
No one even move
a finger for him.
Then they crossed
each other's path.
She kept on saying scripted words she composed half of her life yet he didn't even flinch 'cause he knew the tactics of making a fallacy.
She saw an actor in the way he moved, a hesitation
between his laughs.
The sudden change of tone.
They saw each other's effort in making the ugly, beautiful.
So when they realized pretending was a total waste, they took off the chromatic cloth they used as a camouflage for years.
They acknowledged their flaws and crawled into it.
Stiched the wounds that were bleeding an ocean and they both howled in agony.
Pretending was put into an end with a sigh of relief.
Along the monstrous society, they found each other: a solace.
A grieving soul lifting a dehydrated being.
They are both weak but became each other's string of hope.
Together, they both anticipate the unknown yet to come.
Even if it will be a ruin on the peak, they made a decision to be each other's sweetest downfall...
without a stutter, a script.
-the tale of the scarred
YOU ARE READING
Constellation
PoetryHere lies the speck of words orbiting in my own galaxy that was once lost but finally found its own constellation.
