Faint Euphoria

At first glance, I felt it stir— In that crowded room, I think I saw you first. The second time was fleeting; I’m certain inside, there’s something I’m feeling.

Then comes third, it was luck no more, But I believe we were destined to meet once more. I saw you as I entered that hall; Yes, it was the face I thought I’d never see again.

I uttered no words, just silent gaze, Here and there, just to see your face, Until the day died and ended just that. Boy, I thought, there’s not another chance.

Just when I took one final look, And went on with my days, as I should, There came your name on my screen. I’d like to ask, “How have you been?”

It was heavenly,

to be your muse

A subject to your poetry,

a never-ending role

For a writer's mind,

when inked and written

will forever be there

It was a bliss,

to know your words

are all about me

and me alone

It was treacherous,

to know that it ends

that no longer am I

on your poetry anymore

It was dysphoric,

that for all those times

the poetry you've written

was not a poetry at all

For all I know,

I'm just a long-lost note;

a spilled ink

on a crumpled paper

The fact is, I am still afraid. I fear about how am I going to continue living the way I did before. My whole being can't seem to carry everything that I often sleep with a heavy heart and wake up feeling the same with just a little hope that I could go through the whole day without breaking apart. I am afraid of facing the possibilities and I am even more afraid of thinking that my life would soon be entirely different and that I am not strong enough to deal with anything this big just yet.