12 femme

would you dare to kill your feelings away?

you're the person that also is but isn't mine at all. you're burning through the fragments of my mind as i'm slowly trying to open my eyes. i'm blindly searching for you, searching for a sign or maybe just searching for the reassurance you once gave me after our soul-shattering separation.

you used to be the contradiction of my existence and i wasn't the one who believed in typical romance— our souls synced and we both felt that ever since we met ourselves in this altered reality.

it was just as divine as we thought it wouldn't be: we were each other's eternity in a world where the time reference lost its relevance and the only things that belonged to our focus were each other's eyes and lips. that was the only reality we chose to believe in as i hungrily searched for your rosy cheeks and your embrace on endless nights i'll always remember.

                               to love?

to love and to be loved... in return. to love and not to be adored... in return.

to love?

for me, love is something deeper than anyone else would dare to know. i'm loving you from afar— i wake up and kiss your forehead and i fall asleep after kissing your beauty marks. i can feel you're holding me, as i drown myself into the depths of your arms. with each day passing, i feel more and more intrigued by how my existence ties itself to yours from distance. i'm trying to find so many words to paint this process, but nothing seems to be able to describe how much of a lover you are, yet you aren't... to me.

think of the night air. think of how we're both breathing the same night air instead of passing it to each other, filling up our lungs, but think of me as your night air; the one that slowly kisses your nose when it gets terribly cold, as i wear the black scarf you gave me when we last saw each other.

in our world full of anger and tenderness you're the one i love and the one i wouldn't regret telling it to as you're reading this twisted confession of mine, a confession that would contradict whatever was left in our last encounter.

...and think of how blessed i would've been if i was your night air, my dearest.

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