i had you last night.

 it was i who faked the sunset

and made you believed that fairyland

exists nowhere in this land.

it was i who tore the clouds into pieces

and made your last tear reached

the coldness of my very skin.

but

it was i who lost the match

and is now bleeding. 

You are wrong. This is no longer about you, and never about her. This isn’t even about us. This is about me. And how i want to hold your hands forever. How i write your name in the air and speak about you with so much love than ever. How i selfishly want to own you. And tell you to hold me and never let me go. 

But then, you are right. The stars might never twinkle again. The sparks that people see each time our feet gets an inch closer, they might never be true at all. Same with the scent of the blooming flowers and the dawn.  and the love letters. and  for sure, my cup of coffee will always be cold, and its never gonna taste the same again. Yes. i know. My fault, as always.

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