sentiments-of-the-night

[sentiments-of-the-night]

Lyra’s Lament

I like to think that we were stars joined by the same constellation. That we were created from the same light.

But part of me wonders if that is wishful thinking, that maybe stars are just celestial bodies, balls of burning gas. Maybe we were just part of the same universe, nothing more meaningful or interesting, or characterized by destiny. We were just beings who happen to coincide at the wrong time.

But that sounds so unpoetic that I don’t want to believe it. Was it all naught but an illusion? A trick of the light? Was that all we were?

Part of me still wants to think we were the brightest stars in the night sky, admired and praised by many.

But all we are now are long-dead stars in an empty sky.

[sentiments-of-the-night]

Your Place is Empty

I know we haven’t properly talked for 6 months, but I still feel your absence.

On most days, I am fine, but on others I want to crumble from the weight of my grief. After we separated my friendships haven’t been the same. Something is missing, and I don’t know what it is. I think it might be me, like being vulnerable is something I’m not capable of doing anymore. It’s terrifying.

And I feel guilty for feeling like this, comparing everyone to you like you’re the standard. I feel guilty for thinking that every friendship I have now is trying to replace what we had.

I can pretend I don’t miss you, convince my friends otherwise, but my heart and bones and soul know the truth.

I’ll still miss you like the sun misses the moon.

[sentiments-of-the-night]

In Another Universe

I believe in the multiverse, so perhaps we worked out in one.

Even though not in this one.

Perhaps in another universe, we didn’t go through so much heartbreak, perhaps in another universe you were ready to love me like you meant it, maybe there we kept our promises to each other, maybe there when someone mentioned my first heartbreak, your name wouldn’t echo through my mind.

Perhaps in another universe we did it right.

Or at least resided in Plato’s cave a little longer.

[sentiments-of-the-night]

Sculptor

i wonder what it’s like

looking in the mirror and

thinking you’re beautiful

and being content with your features

i wonder what it’s like

not thinking you’re a wretch

a tragedy

a monster

i look at myself in the mirror

and i want to burn my eyes

and tear my skin apart

and shape myself into something

that’s actually worth looking at

[sentiments-of-the-night]

Was it Enough?

i feel like flesh has been ripped out

and my heart shattered to smithereens

and i want to cry and thrash and scream

i want to rip my eyeballs out of their sockets

i want to look at pain in the eyes and ask

was it enough?

are you satisfied?

i want to hide and weep and lament that

i am rust where i was once shiny

i am pitied where i was once admired

i am hated where i was once loved

i am ostracized where i once belonged

back when my so called friends

knew about morals and values and love

and i knew about friendships and trust and hope

but now the devil laughs at me

along the rest of them

[sentiments-of-the-night]

Heart in Pieces

I’m still haunted by memories.

But I can’t lie and tell you I don’t miss you, my soul aches for you so vehemently I don’t know what to do with so much feeling. I can still feel the warmth of your touch, the breath of our mingled lips, the way your laughter made me feel, so bright and pure, the way you awoke a dormant feeling of love in me I wasn’t sure I was capable of feeling. But the sweet words you’ve said come back to taunt me, they remind me of what we no longer have.

I am a mess of tears and tainted memories and nostalgia. I hurt and i hurt and i hurt and I made and unmade us and it’s all I had but it’s gone now. I’m picking up the pieces that remain of myself and trying to figure out what to do with them or what they mean. But there’s no more to hold on to or wait for, there’s just an uncertain future ahead of me, mocking me with a maddening look.

I was not ready to leave and for it to end, I was not ready to stop calling you home.

I’m still not ready.

[sentiments-of-the-night]

At the Evergreen

Meet me at the evergreen.

Where light shines the brightest, where flowers are always blooming, where you can never get enough of everything.

Meet me at the evergreen.

Where you’ll feel better, where your wildest dreams will come true. Where you’ll find everything you need.

Meet me at the evergreen.

Where grass was never greener. Where the waters sparkle just like your eyes, where the universe seems small and at your reach.

Meet me at the evergreen.

Because consequences don’t matter here, because your choices won’t haunt you, because you’re free.

Meet me at the evergreen.

Because I miss you, because I need you, because I want you.

Meet me at the evergreen.

Because it’s my home. And I’m waiting for you.

[sentiments-of-the-night]

as i lie in the darkness, i pretend you think about me as much as i think about you

[sentiments-of-the-night]

The Girl at the Corner of the Library

The girl let go of her friends.

The heavy burden on her shoulders threatened to collapse her world; everything she had built for herself. She didn’t want to hurt them, so she pushed them away. Without any word, without warning.

“It’s better this way,” she reminded herself, when she found she missed the warm company of her friends, of anyone, but found loneliness instead. The library was her safe haven, she found comfort in books where she couldn’t find it anywhere else. She shared a connection with them; she found that books were simple.

Books were just pages filled with writing she could lose herself in; if she didn’t like it, she could stop reading, if she did, she was transferred to a magical, foreign place. A place were anything was possible, a place where she didn’t have to carry her burden anymore, where nobody hurt her, where she, for once, could be herself.

So, often, you’d find her sitting at the farthest corner of the library. Sometimes lost in thought, but most of the time crying. She cried and cried for a place she never knew, people she never met, but mostly, she cried because of what this cruel reality gave her. Reality weighed her down, she couldn’t keep up with it. And it terrified her.

So she read and read and lost herself in the process. Because she didn’t matter, because she was no one, because of the person she was and could’ve been. She found that she liked being lost. She started welcoming the temporary reprieve of life books gave her. She didn’t want to be found, saved. Or maybe she did and was too afraid to admit it.

She also welcomed books because they lied. In real life, people were not rescued, the bad guy always won, and heroes always ended up dead. She lived in a world full of lies because she realized it hurt less than living between the truths.

No one was coming to save her. She was alone. She had no one but herself, and with no comfort, she realized it was not enough. She didn’t matter enough to have someone care for her. She was invisible. After all, she was just the girl at the corner of the library; not more, not less.

[sentiments-of-the-night]

The Boy Who Befriended the Dark

The boy who befriended the dark wasn’t always lonely.

He was loved once. But as the years went by, and he grew up, the only person who loved him was gone. He missed them. He missed being cared for and noticed.

Now the only ones who notice him are the monsters lurking in the dark. They wait for him in the lonely hours of the night. He has no choice but to listen to them. Their endless jeers and taunts.

But he keeps up with it, because he thought that having monsters for company is better than having no company at all. He put up with everything they said, everything they whispered. He listened.

Eventually, he found comfort in the dark. He even sought it. I guess it became his new home. At least he thought so, since he didn’t remember what having a home felt like.

They kept whispering, demanding his full attention. He was reluctant at first, but then he remembered he had nothing to lose. He was alone, neglected. He was no one. No one would remember him. He was already lost. He was past the point of saving; the dark was his friend anyway.

So in the end, the boy who befriended the dark whispered back.

[sentiments-of-the-night]

Moon

I have a special friend.

She’s always there for me when I need her. She’s a great listener, she’s bright and lively, and my inspiration.

But like all things, she has to go through phases until she’s her bright self again. She’s a bit closed off, but I never minded. I understood, and I never pried.

She makes me feel a mix of awe, melancholy, and happiness. I sometimes go visit her at night. I go to our spot and never have to tell her I’m going, since she’s always there already. It’s like she waits for me.

She knows me, and doesn’t run away from me.

She loves the stars, she says they are her greatest company. We have that in common.

But she’s also mysterious. As great a person she is, no one knows much about her. Just that she’s beautiful, a great listener, and that she has to let the darkness in to come out as glowing and bright as always.

No one even knows her name.

But we all call her the Moon.

[sentiments-of-the-night]

falling in love with you was like shouting into the void

[sentiments-of-the-night]

Mirage

I reached out for you, just to find you gone.

And when you left, you took my heart with you.

And I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing anymore. You took the best parts of me when you left. And I can’t get them or you back.

I hate yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Because none of them have you anymore. And in a sense, they don’t have me, either.

But you come back to me, in my dreams. You reach out for me, wanting to hold me, you apologize for leaving me alone, and kiss me again. Just one more time. Before I wake up and wish I hadn’t.

My dreams don’t let me forget you.

Everything reminds me of you.

I lost my mind in the process of losing you. But who wants sanity when I can have your arms holding me. Your whispers caressing my skin. Your body conveying a thousand “I love you’s” to me when words are not enough.

I don’t know if I should hate or love sleeping, since I know you’ll be there waiting for me.

You made me an insomniac. You made me lose my mind. You made and unmade me and I hate you.

But you know as well as I do that it’s not true. But it would make things progressively easier if it were.

I can’t avoid sleep forever.

So I’ll sleep and be met with the whisper of a promise that could never be.

Because you’re a mirage, even in my dreams.

[sentiments-of-the-night]

My Heart

I don’t think you have any idea of how much my heart longs for you.

My heart is a feeble, wretched thing. It feels rotten and lifeless. It feels like a black hole that absorbs all of my emotions and turns them into nothing, leaving them stranded in the abyss of self.

Despite this, my heart can form some sort of hope, to reach for you. Hope that you can make it beat again, bring it to life like we so desperately want to. To make it function properly, like all the others do.

But I’m afraid the longing of my heart is useless when the force of nothingness is stronger. It seems to be like that all the time.

But that wistful, fools hope my heart still carries around, is certain that with time, it will be able to form some semblance of love and give it to you, like if it was waiting for it this whole time.

[sentiments-of-the-night]

i turn my grief into words, because it has nowhere else to go

[sentiments-of-the-night]

what am i, in the absence of grief?

[sentiments-of-the-night]

i like the idea that i have of myself in my head better than the real me