Standing at the roadside, parading a wreckage of metal.
All the lights are blinding, the stops and stares, unnerving.
I can hear the shakes of head, and see the feeling of disappointment.
That night, the moon couldn't have shone any brighter.
But the heart and mind is already lifeless.
Not of shock, or fear.
Because secretly, secretly I had hoped for a different ending.
Why? Maybe because I had started numbering my days.
The sirens and panic in his voice dumbs down to a calm of chants
I'm kicking pebbles by the roadside
While people look at me and nod with sympathy
Sympathy I need not
The ticking couldn't get any slower,
I'm standing in a crowd but I cannot feel the presence of me in the masses
The world has already begun to separate the entity from its place.
Funny. My dreams do come true if I will it.
That one day, I couldn't think of anyone to call. I realized I don't have anyone I want to call not after what came after. I have yet to find my panacea. Love and soothe somehow never promised to come hand in hand.
I am your bitter child, born and bred in angst. All I need is someone to help me douse that great pit of rage inside when I'm mad, be the balm to my insecurities and the gust of wind to carry away the burden of my chest.
But every time I'm choking on the tightness, and every one else is just watching and smothering. I can't tell you how to help me. Because I don't know how. And then I realized, I'm asking the impossible from everyone. The world hasn't wronged me, i just told myself so.
Felt robbed. Robbed of simplicity, and of peace.
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