Skip to main content

Your Power Over Me





The wind breezes
As it whispers softly
Right next to me
Stars are hiding
Beneath the tree
I could just fall, supposedly
For his raspy voice and cold tone
As it is blurring my vision 

But still 
The smell of your cigarette 
Takes me back to the night 
When you were near 
How dare you 
Reminding me that all of this 
is perfect because of the familiarity 
Between you and him, the resemblance is uncanny 

I cursed myself 
For letting the memory of you 
Has that kind of power over me 


Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

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...
Post a Comment
Intrigued enough? »

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
Post a Comment
Intrigued enough? »