Secrets I Whisper to the Stars at Night

back to reality

I was bounded to you in a way I didn't expect. The ropes continually tying us both but as days pass by, gradually slacken. I could feel you pull away from me. I could also feel you pull closer in some days. But I guess it's time to close this, whatever this is. No matter how many times I tell myself that I shouldn't frequently take this poison, that I always succumbed to you when you're near, I can't stop killing myself: mostly my heart and my mind. No matter how many times I tell myself the dangers of unrequited love, I still find myself enticed by the idea of us. You are my muse and I am your writer. I wrote a book about us that I wish I could have unwritten, but we won't be here now, will we?

This is the part where I should open my eyes and finally see clearly after months of closing my eyes and can only see you. This is the part where I should protect myself from rain and bring out an umbrella. This is the part where I should glue back together the pieces of my heart you hammered into pieces. This is the part where I should drink that antidote that will heal me from the poison.

This is the part where I need to remake myself into a hardened character.

This is the part where I come out bloody after this battle of feelings.

This is the part where I float and not drown.

This is the part where I stop writing about you.

This is the part where I should stop with the fiction.

This is the part where I should come back to reality.

(But I can't help myself opening our book and add another chapter or hoping there'll be another fantasy you can lure me into.)