after party syndrome
the acoustic sound of the guitar and the melody slowly melts her heart. he was standing in the rain outside of her window. with his stance he just wants her back and he seems to look positive yet he was sad, which only proves he was nothing without her. and on the verge of tears on her eye she was about to close the curtain and she slowly walks on the door. but as she was closing the curtain, she remembered all the things they both went through, all the fights and all the pains the guy caused her. she was walking towards the door and she felt her hand shaking, remembering the time when she was slapped by the guy outside a busy market on one Saturday afternoon. the acoustic guitar, that soothes her ears suddenly became a noise, the mood for romance slowly changing. the air of love became hate, the light she found in the rain and on the circle of violence suddenly locks her thoughts. she went to the door not to open it, but to make sure its locked. she went to the CD player and turned it off. and she turned the lights off and she went to bed in tears…. not because of sorrow, but because of her courage to be free.
so he who was outside slowly walked away, with a sad song on his mind. soaking went in the rain he mumbled a short poetry.
im a fucked up little moron
took violence
circle it
and slowly turned it
a weapon of lust, love and hate.
im a fucked up little moron,
not knowing where to go
without her i know im going on no more
is there something more i could do
when everything in my life is saying no
the once sweet is now bitter
a fucked up little moron is now a litter
the thing that goes on know is the question why
no reply
prayers are lost…
he went on, moving while he was dragging his feet at each step. he was angry, he was devastated, in the verge of strange rage of hatred but to whom… clueless. to let go, or to fight? fight for what? a reason that is constantly bent down, sanity suffering.
she woke up with a reggae music in her head, she was jolly, she went to the kitchen made her a cup of tea and stayed on her sofa. she saw their picture, she held it and she placed it down. and she wrote something.
today i am free. if love is love then it will find me. if time is time then it shall go on, like days that carries memories. this where i start where i exactly ended.
and she went back to bed.
he came again, but this time he had flowers. and left it right in front of her door. and went away.
in the morning when she was about to go to the office, she saw the flowers, she found a note and she read it.and it says:
love in the middle ground, where we are both confused is not worth fighting for. where love is lust and lust is violent. and it circles in my path. i looked for answer and i found none. yes, it could have been sweeter, but things are bitter.
she smiled. kept the note and threw the flowers in the bin.
and i woke up.that was a nice dream…never mix tequila with vodka… it is lethal.
mau
MALAYA!
