I like knowing the ending of the books I read and the films I'm about to watch.
The spoilers are fond of me as I am to them.
I'm the type to ask questions until I get the answers I seek.
However, it's the first time endings felt this odd to know.
My mind is a dark alleyway—fixed for such destinations that even I can't find.
I sought a door to escape, but, sadly, I was in too deep.
When I was a kid, I hated the dark as much as I did.
Today, I breathe with it.
Cynicism may or may not have blinded me.
Such hypocrisy, if you were to ask me.
I'm on my way to ruining the things I love and loved me.
No words could ever describe how much I hate who I am.
I never wanted to tell you because of all the things I push away,
You're the one I want to keep.
But, for some reason, I can't feel you.
My insides were screaming, I heard only echoes from the walls.
I still see you, but I knew you'd be gone.
I entered a maze: a game with myself.
The end is near, yet I choose to wander around.
Maybe if I did, I'd get lost for a long time.
Like a madman, in a poor, miserable state—I'd laugh at myself saying; "Spoiler alert, act surprised."
YOU ARE READING
To Fill or Burst, To Break or Bury
PoetryI may have been the one who wrote this book, yet it undoubtedly belongs to you. Even if our hearts were meant to fill or burst, or even break or bury, today's me will always, always love you-through the shiniest or even the darkest side. No matter w...
