Losing Grip

Note: Inspired and reblogged from my old website which turned to be a dust on my memory. Hope you like it.

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I am over with melancholy grieving. I don't like pouring salt into my wounds anymore. There wasn't an ounce of compassion in yours unless it was for yourself.

I believe everything you told me, swallowed a feast of your lies eagerly. To tell you the truth, I feel more sorry for you than I do for myself. You were a shadow of the man you had been. I don't hate you, not anymore, I suppose. In my mind you are some sooty, dark gray cloud hovering over my head, threatening to drop a hard, cold rain over me, and drench me in even more misery. 

I hated good-byes, especially when I said good-bye to people I really loved. It gave me an empty feeling that started in my stomach, then spread all over until I felt like a shadow of myself. But I need to finally wave good-bye on you even there's that horrid feeling I might said good-bye forever without realizing it. 

As I grew older, I came to realize that we couldn't command the sun and the stars to appear but I also understood that each day of our lives, some new part of us was born and some old part of us died. There was so much I wanted to die, to bury forever in the deepest regions of my memory. How painful those days and weeks after my feelings' death were. It seemed the agony and the turmoil would never end. But I kept strong, but in my secret heart, I hoped I will develop a brave heart over the my trials.
  

My dreams led me elsewhere. I just want nothing but a simple relationship that could define the best of me and can find my worth. I could believe in the magic forever and ever. 

This had been written four years ago. It was still a deep scar.

Blood in my eyes.