1 January 2019

Another year come and gone.
A new year
Fresh as it should be,
Dull as it meant to be.

Moments of mine
Can never be wrapped in a few words;
When everyone
Is putting up
A grand stage play,
For heart and more hearts,
For attention and more attentions.

Life is but a serious thing to ever be talked about.
How I hate every encounter,
Wounding every bit of the already hollow soul,
Tearing the flesh —
Piece by piece
Until there is nothing.

(And it secretly conceal as if it is healed.)

Cherish is the word
Often be used
And never be understood.

Every hello and goodbye
Like the flapping of the wings,
So light
And heavy,
Too transient and fragile
To be taken care of.

 

 

Edited on 31 July 2019.