A Losing Battle

Six months have past after we broke up. Three and a half weeks past after that stormy day. And since then, no sunlight has crossed this face.

Dreams of you hunt me until they became my nightmares in the daylight.

Hope, which had been my faithful friend, betrayed me and sold me to the agony.

Still, questions in my mind remained, "Why do we need to walk in seperate ways?"

My heart still shouts that yours is still mine. It's just that you are guarding it so uptight. You are just to afraid to let it be broken that your heart wants to stay in the comfort of your chest.

Apprehension drew near me as I plot and daydream our next meeting. Making me feel restless and out of control.

I badly wanted your love. Love, please come back. A silent plea screamed in the depths of my mind.

Space, as what they said, is what is needed. But what if he just forget me? Then we weren't really meant to be.

Perhaps, inspired with romantic novels that I still want to fight for a losing battle. I still want to hold your wavering grip. I still want to kiss your purse lips. I still want to have your stiff body. I still want to stare at your scolding eyes. I still want to love you even if you are already devoid of the emotions I have in me.

What a bitter image in my mind that I wanted to puke. Still, the love-stricken image of yours remained in my mind. Lingering every moment I let my guard down. An image of you that is already far from the one I'm looking at now.