Graphic Maker

We could write the story of how we fell apart . But your truth and mine ain't the same . So I'll write the words into my heart of the chapter that bears a place of your name. How could people go from a feeling that words can't describe? To even caring if I'm even alive? When it dissipates does it turn to hate? If you see me on the street, would you talk to me? For the sake of us?

The love that we shared, did it fade into nothing? After all the dreams that we had, did it vanish completely? The love that we shared, did it fade into nothing? After all the dreams that we had did it vanish completely? The us that we shared...where does the love go?

Why do i always keep myself too attached to the very person who is hurting me far heavier than anybody else? It's like as if i want pain and suffering to be with me, to keep me from being too naive and in tune with my senses. Sometimes i wish i'd be someone else, in a place where nobody knows me, nobody can reach me. A place where in i can have solitude even just for a few days. I miss the "me" that i learned to love above else. I miss the people whom i can detach my bearings.

In a soap bubble, thats where i want to be. Flailing in silence, so gentle, so peaceful. I yearn for some piece of mind yet it haunts me not to care. I yearn to leave it all behind yet i dont have the courage to just breakaway. All my life i played my cards right and it doesn't pay off. And they say that everything has their purpose. Some purpose they are that all it do to me is to keep on slashing bits and pieces, parts of my puzzle and all is scattered, lost, destroyed.

Emptiness, amidst all the material, social, physical, spiritual dimesions, i feel empty. A chair is still a chair, even if there is no one sitting there. But a chair is not a house, and a house is not a home when theres no one there, to hold me tight, and no one there you can kiss goodnight. Of all the efforts, i still end up short. Of all the sacrifices, i am still at the losing end. I still wonder why it has to be such a miserable altercation everytime? Why there seem to be no lesson learned? Why can't there be any progress? I feel oppressed, so deprived of the things that i too have the right to enjoy. In an empty corner, with empty chairs, on an empty room, i write an empty longiness.  

What if there were no stars at night? Would I still have met you? It's funny how we tend to set certain characteristics and qualifications for the person who we think is best for us when we know for sure that he may only exist in our dreams. I used to believe that by wishing on star everynight that hopefully someday my dreams would come true.

We all have our own stories of love to tell, but my story i know very well. When I met you, I knew that there was something in you, something magical that made me feel good. The more I got to know you, the more the feeling of goodness grew. Could it be that my wish have finally come true? Perhaps they have, and it's all because of you.

It's you that makes me happy in a sense that no one can. Like each individual star, your love brightens my world. Everytime you say goodnight, angels serenade above the sky, the song of a silent lullaby. And stars twinkle amid the dark haze while the pale moon appears without a trace. As long as I live and this i may see, as long as you exist, I can never be unhappy.

People say that we can never prevent what has been destined for us. Forty days before a child is born, angels proclaim a boy for every girl. Maybe it's true that our meeting was written in the stars, because if not for the stars, I would not have met you...