you

You are my soul,
my heart,
my eyes,
my hands.
You feel for me,
for yourself,
for them,
for us.

You define my life,
you make life have a whole different meaning.

You make me realize how lucky I am to have you in my short but meaningful life.
You mean everything to me,
but do I mean everything to you?

You run,
and I chase after you.

You walk,
and I walk alongside you, matching our footsteps.

You speak,
and I watch your beautiful lips move as if they have a life of their own.

You dream,
and I wonder, do you ever dream of me?
Because I dream of you, every single moment of the day.

You are the key to the lock of the doors of opportunities,
And I hold it tight,
Not wanting to lose it,
Ever.
Because if I it,
I'll lose you.

And I don't ever want to lose you.



P/S: Most of my inspiration came from Chasing Brooklyn (written by Lisa Schroeder) and from Tumblr. Some quotes (all? o.o) come from myself :D LOL, okay thanks bye. I'll continue tomorrow :)

trapped

He wanted out.
Enclosed in this dark, windowless and claustrophobic room which reeked of cigarette smoke and human waste, he wondered how long he could last. Not long, he knew.

He let out a long sigh. It had already been 7 days and the food supply was running out. Fast. It did not seem as if anybody would be able to find him. He felt like he was playing a brutal game of hide-and-seek. Either you be found and continue finding the others who had been trapped in other places, or die. He hoped fervently that the latter wouldn't happen to him, but now it seemed as if hope was playing hide-and-seek with him too, appearing at all the wrong places. Sometimes, like now, not appearing at all.

"Let me out!" He shouted hoarsely whilst pounding on the metal door, until, finally, all the energy drained away from him. He slumped down the dirty wall, all the remnants of the hope and energy he once had scattered around the tiny room, filling in the cracks of the floor, finally gone from his world...






P/S: There's something weird about the sentence structure. Will edit it when I'm free. (:

regrets

Sometimes, you really hate yourself for the decisions that you've made.
It's like a promise made but not kept- you hate yourself so much for not keeping to it, but at the same time you know it's hard to follow with it...

You just want to run away, run away from these problems. Escaping might not be the best solution, but sometimes it's the only option available to you.

And so, you run.
You run like the wind. So fast that people can't seem to be able to catch up with you, so sudden that they might not realise that you've even come and gone. You stop to catch your breath. Sweat trickles down the sides of your forehead, down to your neck and onto your back. Your black T-shirt is damp from all that running. And yet, you don't seem to notice.

You've regretted all your life.
So you're not going to regret again, never again. You will not pause to ponder at things that once seemed to mean a lot to you. No, you don't. You cared, but in the end, nobody appreciated it. That was your first regret, helping people who didn't deserve your care and concern. The next regret came years later. Your best friend just turned your back on you. You did nothing wrong. You regret not asking her what her problem was, and now it's all too late... everyone has turned their back on you, thinking that you've changed, when you have not.

You regret.
You want to stop regretting, but you can't. Because regret is a vicious cycle. It is a monster which turns up at the most unexpected of moments.

It is here again.
You continue running...
Running...
Running...

remembering

She finally remembered.
Those times spent lying face up on the grass in the meadow, looking up at the sky together with him. They would breathe in the deep scent of the flowers and watch those beautiful butterflies flutter past them, not having a care for anything else in the world. How she missed those times. Now that he was gone, these times would become just a memory that was etched deep into her mind and nothing else. She missed him. So much, in fact, that as she now stood in front of the mirror, she wept. This pain she was feeling was much more worse than having a thousand knives being stabbed into her. She hated looking at herself in the mirror. Sunken cheeks, bloodshot eyes, oily hair that hung like a curtain, obscuring her soul from the outside world.

She remembered.
And she hated it.

fate

It was this thing called fate that brought them together. Without it, they'd probably just be strangers passing by on a crowded street, unaware that they were really meant for each other, unaware that even the strongest hurricane would not be able to tear them apart...

Now, as they stood looking into each others' eyes, they could see their past in it. The laughter, the tears, those lovely days they had together... they were all reflected in their eyes. Even then, as they knew that they did not have many years ahead of them, it was perfectly clear that no matter what happened, they would still be in each others' minds...