My heart shattered in a zillion pieces
didn’t you hear the sound?
Had you become so immune to me,
cast in a cruel and heartless mound?
My breathing had hitched,
could you not hear the pain in my voice?
Or had you turned so deaf,
too afraid to even reconcile.
My eyes shed tears endlessly,
did you not see them fall?
Were you so blinded by hate,
that you wanted me to beg and crawl.
My skin had turned numb with shock
had you not felt me tremble?
Too engrossed in your thoughts,
too busy to murmur something gentle.
When my heart beat for the last time
you never did mourn for me.
In my grave now, i forever shall lie,
hopeful and restless, waiting for thee.
This was written by me in 2009. No relevance to my current frame of mind other than feeling sad and blue.
Weekends have this effect on me. I don’t particularly like them. I stay at home, doing homey things, that’s about it. There is no bustling, no hustling, no feeling the fast pace of the city. Weekdays I am the town mouse, come weekend and its the village guy. Now, I don’t mind the extra hours of sleep and leisure but meh.
Went for a forty minute walk as an attempt to lose the extra weight. My thigh muscles felt little spasms of disbelief and anger at their uninformed work out. My dad is out of town and its not home without him. He brings the laughter at our home, the scoldings when we’re wrong and the joviality. I miss him.
I love Mondays.
I am weird.
Just saw this. I wish even i was born in this time. You love one, you stay with one. Sure, safe and sound in the knowledge that you are loved. Mistakes can be made, they shall be forgiven and hugs and kisses await you at the end of each day.
Hopeless romanticism at night.