through feathered pens inked with blood and a scarred soul of overflowing abysmal ideologies; there sits an obscured entity, scribbling metaphors and ironies in a crumpled paper of her chaos, seeking for something out of all nothings.
and here she u...
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retrospection of fleeting eternity
there are wintry nights where i yearn for the solace of your warm embrace, or purple skies where i delude myself taking candid photographs of your side angle being strucked by the beams of its colour as your pure little soul blended with the scenery.
hi, my love.
i wonder where universe youʼre venturing now. were you there? the place you said you wanted to see, where the skies are filled with pastel palettes as the clouds sang for your entity from aurora to crepuscule.
did you think of me and our little memory? when campfires were our favorite song as we danced into the rhythm of the burning flames. when we were as passionate as a painter whoʼs full of artistry, or a writer who writes for the satisfaction of her chaotic psyche.
i hoped to go back to that night where you stumbled upon the bruised little me.
however, i have been harshly slapped by reality that we canʼt, for you are a free-spirited soul who wanted to find the end of the ocean, while i am a prisoner stuck in a swimming pool of six-feet repetitive water.
it was nice having a flicker of your time, though. albeit it was as short-lived as our chaste kiss, i never regretted escaping the night when i encountered your well-crafted chef dʼoeuvre.
my memory of you will be my savior in every chaos, and so i pray for your safe voyage, darling of my fleeting eternity.
