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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Looking at myself only hurts me more, as the image of her doesn't seem to fade away.

Submitted: August 11, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 11, 2014



In the pending days

lazing around with inanimate hope

a ray of light beckons

for me to realize my own sorrow


“If time went back, would you still be the same?”

the light ponders

that “answer”

which was already too obvious


if shame and regret had a same meaning

they would call me an example

but even knowing that

won’t change the fact that I still ‘love’ you


muttering that phrase

won’t change the fact that she’s gone

reminiscing only strains

the status of



like a hand drawn picture

it was my own foolishness

that tore it to pieces

it was my own fault

that destroyed ‘us’ to pieces as well


I look at it everyday

the image of ‘me and you’

stained on the mirror

with an empty reflection

it’s already too late to piece back the broken pieces

shattered during that time of ‘before’


from the apathetic identity

to the me that has no ‘second chance’

he desperately puts back the fractured feelings of love

back on the mirror, only to find

the image of a boy

who she once had loved


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