Daydreams

I guess I’m just sad because I didn’t realise this beautiful two person universe we built together came with an expiration date.

“maybe we were too young. or maybe we were the beat an artist couldn’t get right. maybe we were the plot an author couldn’t finish or maybe we were a sketch an artist ended up painting over with white and starting again. or maybe we were just a poem that a poet couldn’t find the right words to end, and it’s up to us to create our ending.”

I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self respect. And it’s these things I’d believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn’t all she should be. I love her and that’s the beginning and end of everything.

You remind me of the stars in the sky Because I don’t ever want to stop looking at sky And I don’t ever want to stop looking at you You’ve captivated my mind my heart and my soul the flowers from previous woes have now grown into beautiful roses as beautiful as it seems I’m finding it hard to breathe because reality has hit me and I know I can never call you one word, mine.

And that’s all I remember. The photo and the feeling.

If people will be named after colors, I’ll call you purple. The kind of purple that melts in the sky when the sun is about to set and take a rest for awhile. The type of purple that makes my heart jumps a little and lits up the excitement in my eyes. If people will be named after flowers, you’ll be my rose, no matter how painful your thorns. I’ll embrace you with my arms open wide and cage you in a warm tight hug. Even if it makes me bleed red that’ll surely tear my heart apart. If people will be named after seasons, I’ll choose Summer among all of those four. You’ll be the sun that kisses my skin, and made my day goes lighter along the way. You’ll make me love the ocean more, and dance to groovy songs. You are the season which will never get tired of warming my heart when Winter tried to cool it with its cold breeze and snowy hands. If people will be named after places, I’ll call you home. Not Paris, nor New York. You are the place that will always make my heart aches when I’m away—because I’ll surely miss you the moment we took our separate ways. You are the shelter that protects my heart, the one I will always run to no matter what I’m feeling. Happy, angry, sad, jolly, grateful or in love. Because you always understand and know the real me. You’ve seen me— on my ups and downs, and still accepts me— for who I am. I’ll name you after a place that doesn’t have a fancy name, yet will always be the one that will tell me that it’s okay to feel. That it’s okay to be me. You will always remain in my heart no matter where I go. And because people have identities, and so are things. But you and your name will always be my favorite.