The reasons why I hate her
I stepped forward, she stepped back. She stepped forward and I back... and so we danced. Our hands touched for a split second that was enough for our hands to merge into an extension of our souls. Her hair reflected the sun light that made me see in the dark and her face, I wish it to be the last thing I see before I go back to the darkness I call life. It's when weakness and strength combine into becoming the creature I've become. The weakling I become when she speaks to me, the strength that evolves when she gives me that look, that look that makes me feel needed, that my presence would leave a trace, make a difference. She fools me into believing that I'm a better man. She brings out a soft side I've so managed to push away and hide from everybody, including myself, myself especially. She makes me curse at time for not bringing us together sooner. I crave for our contact. I fear out contact. She makes me feel weird. I want this to stop, to end. Oh I hate her.
how i would like to tease you with all the silly questions that pped into my mind, but this post is too beautiful to ruin it with trivial questions.
just yestreday i was telling this friend of mine how love makes all of us weak and dependant - we are all junkies ;)
Posted by
calamity |
8/20/2006 09:49:00 PM