This Evening



There are times when I stare at the ceiling, wondering what kind of life I would want, and need.
Just like this evening, when you suddenly lay beside me and give the brutal honest question.
As much as I know you didn’t mean at all to give harm, yet my heart cannot help but being bleed.
Tears are falling for suddenly I find myself being thrown back to those days of dark depression.
And it’s hard for me to speak it up though I know what it is that really hurts me, indeed.
Meanwhile you, as always, being casually cruel in the name of being honest through the confession.
You ask me why and I answer that I think I know what kind of life I would like to lead.
When the night comes, you hold my hand and give your promise of rejuvenation.

M.F

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