Confession

"Because writing about you always felt like a confession ー of unspoken longingness; of how the horizon remind me of deep brown eyes and feather lips that used to touch mine. You love to bring the sunrise with you. That sitting beside you is enough for me to breathe. That you make me want to live. To stay. But as much as you reflect the warmth of the sun on your skin, you were more of a sunset ー slowly drifting away from me. You bid goodbye on my nights. You looked away from my unlit void. You remain blind on my sadness that I wonder if love means like this. If love has to stay shut during my storms.

That's what you are. Warm and cold. You lie between staying and leaving.

And yet, how can I love you like this? How did I afford to write rhymes for you? When did I learn to love you despite the goodbyes you've pierced to me? Why do I relate you to the stars when you were never there? To howl your name back to the moon when I knew that you will never hear me? Why do I look forward for every sunshine to come as if you'd appear in front of my window?

Will I ever see you again? Will I ever hold your hand again? Because I, I still want to. I still want you here."

📷 : herbleus