Posted in To the people who love..., To this broken heart...

I farted stars and unicorns

I was asleep; that thin piece of cloth barely covering my body. The night was cold but it didn’t matter. I was lying there, lying on the green grass as if it served as my bed in an open room full of darkness.
It was dark. There wasn’t any sign of light that could give me hope that dawn was near. I was shivering, eyes shut and teeth gritted.
I was waiting for your arrival. I can just choose to leave, but I didn’t. I don’t even want to. You said you’d come back.

You just have to find yourself. But were you lost? I don’t remember seeing your soul leaving your body or the other way around.

I was skeptical to believe your reason but I ended up buying it– ended up waiting in the cold and dark night.
You left me there, remember? I was stretching my arms to you as you slowly walk away from me. Irrational tears fell from my eyes as I watched your retreating back. You said you’d come back and I believed you, even if I know, at the back of my mind, that you’re good in telling lies. When you left, you didn’t even dare to look back as if you haven’t left something, someone– me.
You said you believe in magic. Well, I don’t. You tell me stories about unicorns and damsel in distress and glass slippers. I just listen pretending to be interested to your fictional stories.
I loved you that’s why I forced to make myself be a fan of magic, of mysteries, even if I really don’t.
You see? Magic took you away from me.
When we were together in this same place, hands intertwined, you saw a ting flicker of light. You were fascinated. I even noticed your eyes sparkling. You ought to follow that light, while I stopped you. Then moments passed, you begun telling me that you’re tired, fed up with this whole relationship bound by love. Were you tired of me? Or tired of pretending that you love me?
You’re a liar! You don’t really believe in unicorns and damsels in distress or glass slippers. You hated them. It was just that you thought that I was the one who liked them that’s why you tried liking them as well. But it was such a big mistake to like something you really don’t.
And it’s the same with your feelings. You’re a fat liar, a puppet manipulated by your own greed and ego. You said I was your princess. But you lied again. You saw me as a prey, a bird perhaps. That kind of bird people sell for its beauty. You were my hunter. Like a fool, I let you hunt me and catch. Now that I no longer posses that beauty, you chose to leave me– throwing me like a garbage.
You won’t come back. You won’t. That’s a given

But because I am a fool, I still stay on the same spot where you left me. I look up and stare at the endless darkness.

I noticed stars started floating around me. They were shining so bright. Then unicorns fly leaving a trace of light.

They were coming from me, from me bottom– or the bottom of my heart or stomach. I’m not sure. But they’re beautiful.

Maybe, I farted stars and unicorns, holding the piece of hope that it will bring me light in this dark night and a possibility that one of your lies might be true.

 

* * *

I don’t know if does make any sense. I just hope it does.

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Author:

writer | blogger | reader | staffer | lover | eater | worshiper Shayeness is a 19-year-old gal born in the year 1998. She's from the Philippines and a pure Filipina. Currently, she's studying at a university where in she takes BS in Development Communication and is in her third year in college. Shayeness writes poems, stories, essays and even songs. She's in love with words. She blogs her works here (wordpress) and in tumblr. Aside from writing, she also loves reading, given that this is where she started having the heart to write. She's also a campus journalist and working at their university's official publication as the feature editor. Aside from writing she's a lover of a lot of things as well, especially cupcakes and cute things. She loves eating a lot but hates junk foods. She's a Christian and she serves God through the worship ministry where in she plays the keyboard (piano). Her personal dream is to someday publish a novel or a book of poem at least once in her life but also pursue her plans (well she doesn't have any yet). She's still thinking if she'd be a disc jockey, a journalist, a layout artist, a reporter, a director or an office-mate. Her chosen course has a lot to offer. It's hard to choose. The important thing is, she plans to have a job.

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