of solace and solitude

had i only known that things will get fuzzy on my way, i wouldnt have tried to keep going. i was engulfed by the thoughts of surviving into my on guilty pleasure. i know it was my fault. not even yours nor the other. it was simply a chance of falling in love out of control.

i dont know if it was all a coincidence. i wouldnt have known. yet, it was compromising that someday, somehow it will last.for some, it was just a shit out of feeling, for me it’s love out of shit.

i chance upon looking up the sky, it was all dark. i cant even see the slightest streak of stars. its all just the cold breeze stroke into my face, that solitude, that seclusion behind bars of turmoil...i remain silent. at some point  i know that even the darkest night i have now will have something brighter morning tomorrow. call it dramatic, call it emo, call it whatever you want fucktard... i am naive at my most emotional abyss now, i really am.

i am in love but the feeling is not mutual. so therefore, the battle is not between two different souls, its between me and the battle itself.  it couldnt be any more harder when i know you’re there at the end of line, waiting. and in a midst of my survival there is a solace that you may give something i hold on for.  but its not, and will not ever be happened. it all just ME. alone in my own solitude and subtle diversity.

i shouldnt worry much of anything else. because it all boils down between ME and MYSELF. pathetic. it will just remain as unspoken words, unwritten poems and trapped feelings deep inside.  there i am. i was caught by my own stupidity.

This dark sky is still the same old sky I had been staring at AGAIN in your presence or without. but I hope it will not leave any dreadful nights AGAIN that ill be suffered from with so much pain due to something i have been longing to feel for.

this has been mechanical. i love, i get hurt. but in the end at the very least i felt something dynamical sense of comfort, i feel happy. i am less infantile inch by inch in terms of this kind of feeling. theatrical composition.

and for the last phrase that has  reached its core, where nothing has much more to write i know this is just the start of something i have been wishing for. blame it to me but im not giving up till its gone.