April 24, 2017

As if we are strangers...

Your hello was cold.

Your smile was vacant.

As if we no longer recognize one another.

To certain extend, I want to believe about miracle. It may happen, even if I am not sure of when and how, but I hope that I would meet upon a certain kind of a miracle.

Late afternoon tiptoed through the window of the living room. 

I was in turmoil.

Aren't my eyes painted with black shades? 

Aren't you see the visible scars?

I felt my self a little die either. Uneasy emotion marred my soul, practically the whole act. The air is no better, it smelled like a hassle for some reason. 

Waiting doesn't heal.

Time doesn't conceal.

The right incisively memory still persist like new.

And I have been fed up to chew.