walking barefoot on the sand along the shore of the past; watching waves of indelible memories splashing regrets meeting what could have beens. bringing a salty taste of unanswered whys on my dried lips and a bitter sight of wasted chances in front of my eyes.
footprints being washed away as fast as how time is when genuine happiness kisses my naked soul, playing and making the most out of it with someone whom i thought would be by my side as i reminisce the days i could live for the rest of my life.
these waves clearing the path i've taken, not giving a single chance from remaining even i give all my weight in the sand i'm standing on, where my shattered pieces lie that have been left behind and parts that have been bruised and never been healed, to be kept buried under the ocean of my story.
these little fine particles blanketed my whole—from buckets to a drop of tear, breathtaking laughters to soft chuckles,
looking away to hide smirks to staring intently straight to my eyes with big smiles—embracing every second of those moments it witnessed.
walking along the shore of the past, to where this would lead me?
how many steps do i need to be able to move forward?
how far is the present i forgot living?
will i be able to catch the sunset in the city if i leave now?
i will never know unless i start leaving this ocean now.
xii. ocean of my story
