You know I hate it
I hate it when I still feel these feelings for you
I hate it when I still long for something that ain’t coming true
I don’t wanna settle, but I guess I have to
When I dreamt of you misty Sunday morning
It was the joy of your presence that kept me from waking
You got those mystery behind your eyes
A mystery that even I wasn’t able to comprehend to
All I know is what I felt –
The sweetest peck on the cheek and the warmest embrace
A dint of nostalgia on its way out from yesterday
A hunger for those same moments is searching for me at my own race
Seeing you today, though, made me bitterly envious
How I wish I was the one whom you rescued
I always wanted you to be my knight, remember?
I guess it always slipped right out of you
Just for this time, just for once –
I hate it when I just write something for you
When I know you won’t care
I still write how I always fall for you
Promise, this would be the last time that I’ll ever do
Because I hate it.
I hate me.
I hate you.
~I don’t know if this could be considered a poem. I consider this to be a heart – confused, broken (for the nth time), vulnerable. It’s that kind of heart. It’s that but it’s invincible.
P.S. when I wrote this, it’s an impromptu writing; hence, not too much on word play but a show of pure feelings. #SayWhuut