bleeding_ink

’                        THE VAIN STORY OF US Once in a blue moon of the first comet above the constellation, there was a woman of unbreakable silence sitting on the rollercoaster journey of love. She experienced how it felt, she experienced how it works, how it should be, and how it is structured. But just like a rollercoaster ride, it was a love of sudden fluctuations and extreme changes. “Hey! Friea who's this boy you flex on social media? He's so handsome, like argh! Where did you get that guy?!” Lexi asked Friea loudly as she tapped her shoulder on the way off to school. “Gosh Lex, your hands are so heavy” Friea sarcastically replied and put Lexi's hand down. “So, who's this guy, fri? Hahaha” Lex asked. “Stop it Lex. He's just a random guy, you know” Friea replied, rolling her eyes. “Gosh Friea, I know you. Stop lying, okay? See, you're blushing hahahaha” Lex replied. Blushingly, Friea just answered and said...

in this world where people talks in abundance she turn out to be a nuisance. no one ever give her a chance to speak up her thoughts and essence. in the midst of the crowds, she’s avid to scream higher; for she, was bursting with motley burden. yet, she couldn’t loosen her pains and purge her messy mind; for in people’s sight,  she could be a nuisance. inside this covering shell of me, her gullible soul shattered sharply— bloody and couldn’t be free from agony. currently in a state of melancholy, she could no longer live enthusiastically; for in folks perspectives, she’s nothing but a nuisance to everybody. blissfully, she found an accompany. and that is, her beloved poetry; now, she can enunciate louder and howl higher. turn into a goddess of sailing metaphors. and become a poetess— a poetess who writes and express. —bleeding_ink

under the dark night sky with two lamps open‚ there was a girl sitting on the ground outside her home. looking up above so high‚ staring those stars brightly shining in her eyes. the haze of cold summer tangled with a calm air touches unto her sheep-skin jacket as she lay down her back to the wall. sighing‚ longing‚ wondering. wondering why you left me unspoken. counting the twinkling constellation up there‚ thinking that it’s you— it’s you who reside on that shiny stars‚ it’s you who rest up on that big beautiful moon. —bleeding_ink