Whispers from the moon;

 

The stars in her eyes glittered;

Staring at the sky, a galaxy found itself in her vision,

Looking out of place and yet,

The happiness bouncing off her parted lips entranced the world for a second;

 

The moon watched, flushed with the attention,

And as she continued to murmur words,

Strings and threads weaving a note of music;

The stars danced along,

A merry of a night, the joy surrounding her from within;

 

She sat there, envisioning,

There wasn't much to say,

And yet as the ghosts of the past and the dreams of the future flashed through her,

Her hopes in the form of glittering pearls sliding down her cheeks;

The moon reached out, leaving behind the caress of itself at her skin,

The moonlight travelled off the sphere and at her,

Grazing at her heart like warm fingertips at cold skin,

Bringing her in an envelope of warmth;

 

The sky watched her,

Breathing in a sigh out of peace;

With Longing and love, cradling her- the earth held onto her,

Here to tell her she was needed, loved, wished, seeked,

 

A star took it upon itself to drop the message;

 

And as her eyes fluttered shut,

She saw it, a figment of her dream it could have been;

But the mass of sparkles and the trail of words the star left behind as it fell,

The shooting star that made her smile,

And the new-found galaxy in her eyes glittered once more from within.

Voices;

 

The surroundings are quiet;

Nothing to breach the peace.

 

But as I watch the flowers wither,

And the leaves that fall;

I can hear it all, clear and trying to interfere.

 

The silence continues;

But not for me.

 

As the words, and voices...

Make their way to me.

They say not to think about it-to not ponder and worry about it;

But what can I do, when they speak to me-when it scares me;

My own self,

Trying to make me believe.

 

It is hard-to get over them:

They are never tired;

Never afraid,

Never-all together,

In pieces, they make-

Like an army of insects...

They crawl at my skin,

They pull, and bite,

Me from within.

 

I wish for the quiet;

But not inside me...

Cause they continue to haunt-

And make me agree.

Ache.

 

It is too hard somedays...

To even breathe;

When I'm reminded of everything...

That I truly seek.

 

It is painful...

To reminiscence what happened;

The deeds I have done...

Oh lord! Wish I could change 'em.

 

It is tough...

To even hear my heart beat over all the throbbing,

As the slow ache takes over...

And leaves me settling for nothing but that sting.

 

Is it greed?

Wanting to be happy- no wanting to disappear;

As I'm faced with everything...

That wants to reappear;

 

I am tired of it!

Wish I could change...

But since I can't...

I kinda wan' end this game.

The pain won't subside and the heart continues to hurt;

In the midst of nowhere...

My chest, filling it up with everything but the words.

It is empty,

Inside me.

In front of me.

And yet as I think back...

As I look back upon it...

I am met with numbing ache.

 

Rain;

 

The sky weeps-just like I do;

Sitting in my room, I try to:

Keep quiet and not voice it out;

Just like the soft patter of the rain, the tears slither and fall to the ground.

It is, all in all, completely in sync with what the outside sounds.

 

As the rain falls without a break;

Like I cry-trying not to disintegrate...

It is hard-The feeling in my heart;

As it pounds and slowly drops from within...

Making me remember about all that I wanna stop-livin'

 

It has been like this...for quite a while;

And I know I have never been sufficient...

For those who move agile;

I wish it gets better...

However, I know-

Just like the rain-

For a forever, it goes.

The final chapter?

 

The ending?

I sometimes wonder. Really. Wondering is what I do half of the times, but this once, I've got some truth to wonder about.

 

You don't actually ever forget or heal from things that happened with you. 

You don't. 

Healing doesn't work like that, it doesn't mean you're over what happened, it doesn't mean you're over the trauma you had because it's something that lasts forever. 

The only meaning that 'healing' holds is that you learn to move on.

 Move on from everything that happened and you learn to give chances to no one but yourself. 

And there are days when that thorn digs in a lot too deep, enough to leave you yearning for relief from the pain, enough to leave you wanting to cry to settle the ache but overtime, the pain fades. 

And yet, the thorns remain there, stuck. And I feel it's better that way, to have them hurt when they're pushed or pricked at, but at least with the thorns dug deep in your heart, at least there's no hole for a fresh wound to happen. 

And the already existing one might bleed once in a while, but you know how to 'heal' it-you know how to move on. It'll remind you to move on, that you've done it before and you can do it again...

And shall you say, why the pain in the first place? 

It's how the life works, my dear. 

It's all in how life's supposed to work. 

'-and after all this time, maybe-just maybe we never heal. Not truly from the things that happened to us, we just learn to put them in the past and move on and whilst on some days they come staggering back to us, to haunt us, we eventually learn to live with them. Cause now, they make are part of us. They are a part of me.'

The end?

 

The beginning of the end?

'Love isn't always in between people, or romantic for that cause; sometimes it's as simple as falling in love with the way the rain falls over you, tipping down your face and the way you get to breathe in the scent of wet mud-love can be anything, different for everyone, but just the same feeling for each.' 

It's so unique... isn't it?

Like magic almost?

How someone can suddenly enter your life and become such a big part of it that to think of them not being here, beside you-

It's simply impossible?

It doesn't make sense how we can feel for someone, an animal, a friend, a lover...to be honest, I don't think love is love as they show in movies.

It's beyond that. 

It's holding onto the one you love/the thing you love, holding onto the memories you made/holding onto the feelings you caught in that one situation- 

The visions where you envisioned them in, the smiles, the warm floaty feeling within when you have the one you love, close to you. 

It's something pure. Something innocent. 

Something deep, something warm.

It's happiness.

Ah...to think of not being in love, it's such a crime. I wish every person in this world gets to experience the feeling once. Doesn't mind the heartbreak that comes later, I feel like pain of heartbreak would be much more pure. 

Raw... it'll actually remind us of a heart that beats within and probably for someone else, something else. 

I get the meaning behind of the words now, you know? 

'My heart beats for you...'

To say it, I think it means loving someone just oh so much...that to think of them not being here...it's physically hurting. Loving someone so much...that you feel like you're alive for them. Breathing for them. 

And it's toxic. 

But it's magical.

It's insane, how something so toxic in terms of psychology can be something so magical for us-

And to think and wish for it to happen with me and every person alive-

It's so mean of me, isn't it?

But guess I can be mean this once.  Because I don't see any scope in humanity if we don't learn the true meaning of love. The depth of it. 

Love isn't that bookish, movie type love. It's beyond that. Different for everyone. 

I could be in love with an animal, a person, a thing, a memory, anything.

But I love it, and I love the feeling. I will always. Despite the pain that comes from losing it...its the circle of life and I'm here for it. 

Alive, still.