Monday, April 11
Tuesday, April 5
the blow
we might as well be strangers.
the wither of the belovedbotany.
once in fullbloom.the now-a sour staleness due to your imposed expiry.
whilst preferredperceptions are propagated by allthenoseynobodys,
misconstruedmishaps-harbored and born
ununderstoodtruths-developed and rippenedwithrot
i cldnt care less.
cldnt the least be bothered for they're hardly even significant.
basking under the askewedassumptions cast upon me,
thriving from the thoughts that're forming in these mindlessminds
perlustrating peeps and peeks that are thrown towards my direction.
and it was then
the unfortunate unearthing: that you were them
that spilled the shrouded squalidity.
how i had believed that you were one of utmostjust
reasoning with reasons
unjudgmental and unbiased.
for you knew me.
the innerme you managed to know of
as i shared with you my many insecurities.
how you used to calm me with your wisewords and soundserenity
the one i turned to in times of difficulties and moments of glee.
till the day the back was turned.and the love was lost and gone.
the purpose of this isnt to identify the source of cause or name the blame.
but an expression of the disappoinment and the isolation that has frayed the selvage.
to know that we wont be the same again
is desolation beyond any loss i have encountered by far.
for we wont be the same again,
we might as well be strangers.
if only we didnt develop that level of emotional intimacy we had
the talks the laughs we shared
the layers of pretense defense that you encouraged me to shed
all were good while they lasted.
and from the looks of the outcome,
we will be strangers.
as your eyes reach this part of the post,
we already are strangers.
pleased to have met you.
perhaps we shouldnt have.
we might as well be strangers.
the wither of the belovedbotany.
once in fullbloom.the now-a sour staleness due to your imposed expiry.
whilst preferredperceptions are propagated by allthenoseynobodys,
misconstruedmishaps-harbored and born
ununderstoodtruths-developed and rippenedwithrot
i cldnt care less.
cldnt the least be bothered for they're hardly even significant.
basking under the askewedassumptions cast upon me,
thriving from the thoughts that're forming in these mindlessminds
perlustrating peeps and peeks that are thrown towards my direction.
and it was then
the unfortunate unearthing: that you were them
that spilled the shrouded squalidity.
how i had believed that you were one of utmostjust
reasoning with reasons
unjudgmental and unbiased.
for you knew me.
the innerme you managed to know of
as i shared with you my many insecurities.
how you used to calm me with your wisewords and soundserenity
the one i turned to in times of difficulties and moments of glee.
till the day the back was turned.and the love was lost and gone.
the purpose of this isnt to identify the source of cause or name the blame.
but an expression of the disappoinment and the isolation that has frayed the selvage.
to know that we wont be the same again
is desolation beyond any loss i have encountered by far.
for we wont be the same again,
we might as well be strangers.
if only we didnt develop that level of emotional intimacy we had
the talks the laughs we shared
the layers of pretense defense that you encouraged me to shed
all were good while they lasted.
and from the looks of the outcome,
we will be strangers.
as your eyes reach this part of the post,
we already are strangers.
pleased to have met you.
perhaps we shouldnt have.
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