Skip to main content

Self Pity





How can you were someone and the next minute you are anyone but who you used to be.

It may not be a split second decision 
It may not even be a decision at all
It rolls that way
And how can you do the other way
When you only got one square ground to stand
Either you stay and buried
Or you could leave and burned
For three short spaces you gave a thought
Time’s up, you go for the easy one; where you got only yourself to be devastated over; when the reason wouldn’t be sounded too shallow 
Because you chose to be in deep, at the utmost length from the surface
You got no sun nor wind
You stayed in the square one 
Only this time you are way down
With your own self and its pity
Befriended the demon who got nothing to eat
But your soul and identity
Looking up, you let your mind wanders the other option
Nah, better being alone with darkness than hearing those lions roar while you’re burned

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Love I Knew

The love I knew was a broken feeling. Ruined fraction of a human being. Shattered into words of self-deprecating and midnight thinking.  The love I met was in a dream. The worst kind of wishful dreaming. With eyes closed and a full running mind, consisted of people whose existence is around but have been far way long gone. I met love only when I let myself to be taken over into the unconscious world. Romanticized by a dead logic and a handful of feelings that is kinda sick.  The love I knew was pain. One-sided, unrequited, red blooded. The kind of pain that makes you want to scream with a tied tongue; the kind of pain when a wingless bird learn to fly.  The love I knew was never wants more. Expecting miracle but swallowing every reality only to be awaken to the utter veracity, that love is not always pretty. It’s a monster ready to devour my entire endeavor.  The love I knew was being on the other line waiting for him to pick up. Consumed wit...

I’m Still The One Who Cry

Out of the misery you paint hard across my wrist The longing of mild distraction blinded the eyes of every butterflies They flew away abruptly tearing up the memory Between long hours of wrapping back my skin and bones Your cold hard fingers felt insignificant Never been enough to pull out goodbyes and left it blunt There you are standing in the crossroad where I left you to die; being effortlessly calm While holding a bottle of my falling tears in the cup of your palm