2 and a half month of poetry
I’m not usually fond of speaking my heart.. cuz I fear it will complicate things.. politicize issues.. or reveal my vulnerability…
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But for such face saving kind of person.. it ends up maintaining a stupid strong front.. at the expense of non-related parties.. and the detriment of myself.
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Cuz.. it appears that I look frustrated at them.. but really its myself… My bad.. my bad.. sorry I prefer to look like an asshole than a meek..
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Wad transpired was 2 and a half month of poetry.. Why do I call it that? Because poetry to me, is beautiful, romantic, ironic.. and short.
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So.. yeah.. I’ve got no one to turn to but my dear bloggy space.. to let out a little air.. if you allow me my friend..
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I dunno if I should be mad at her or not.. cuz the paradoxical feeling is stirred whenever I try to understand her.. ya.. I can never truly put myself into another’s person shoes completely.. but I think I’ve got a big enough heart for her to tolerate her.. and honestly, I feel that we’ve a mental connection.. that’s something special to me..
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Tolerate is a strange word to use.. it suggests burden, something undesirable.. yet, she’s neither to me..
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Every few mins.. when I’m not doing anything, in the train, or taking a break at the pantry, my thought starts to wander.. I can’t help but think of the good times we’ve had.. many times.. I almost felt like calling her.. to tell her.. ‘I’m sorry’ for wadever reason.. just to find an excuse to speak to her.. But I try and try not to relent..
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This impulse to just hear her voice is almost volcanic.. dormant but never dead.. and explodes from time to time.. only to be suppressed.. again.
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Sigh.. one way to help myself of remaining firm is to imagine she has moved on.. and that I’m just a historical sweetness.. but my guts been telling me she misses me like I do..
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Is this an obsession? Coming from my self-confidence? Or was it just an illusion from the start? Felt real.. but its not easy to bring myself to the hard facts.. that the poem has ended.!?
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To be continued…
