Thursday, December 3, 2009

CosteƱita Soy
(Drawn in MSPaint)

You've written a thousand lines, yet a million more to come. Life is tiresome.

You waited for 20 years or so for the man and yet Pandora has kept her in a box away from you. “Where is my gift?” you asked. You prayed, once again you did. The echo in the Cathedral contains the voice of an angry beggar, full of complaints that hurt the ears of the statues. You asked where the betrothed for you is, what took it so long, why it has to be this cold.

Doomed. Hear the sound of silence. There is much in store for you if you look at the horizon. You overlooked the sky because you saw a nimbus cloud; you’re a petty thief, stole your own life but never used it;

Still you write poems, you write letters that you wish were read by the ones you intended to hear. They’ll never understand, for the words you speak are like of the prophet’s: full of riddles, how poor yet rich, awesome yet full of angst, leading yet lost.

You wait, still
. It is something you are immune to do. What’s new? Life is boring because you cannot do what you want to do, you cannot be with whom you want to be, you cannot be where you wanted to be and you cannot because you didn’t try. You will try but it won’t be easy and you are tired of the difficult. Life won’t give you more surprise just to make you feel that you are bored again. Life is … unexplainable.

Back to the dungeon where you wish someone will save you. Silly. Never trust their kind yet, they all do the same, they all are like cactus – you get hurt the moment you hug them. Silly girl. You forgot what he smelled like but you still wanted to take a bite. That is good, never be afraid to love again.

**I will wait for you, it's something that's left of me to do. You are my only hope.. for four years and more you were there and I am here.. For four years and more, I am the most person that owns your heart.. For four years and more, you should be the one that owns mine...