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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