Crazy as fuck.

I just miss someone from the past. That's all, not much to it really. The feeling will come swooping in every single time I look at that one person's picture or anything. I never really had some sorts of conversation with that person. All that really matters to me was that short one we had when that person asks me about something feared to be a threat.

I... to be truth, never really has those fearless gears when it comes to putting my feeling outside, in the real world. I always have that problem. A blunder which hasn't moved from its favorite place that is within me. For now, it is best for me to assume that everyone have their own Achilles heels and be comforted with that fact.

SAAM.Remembering that one short conversation I had with you.

An epitaph for myself.

This is a poem I made. Actually, I made this in a class I attended last semester, Prose class. It was.... err, I don't really know how to describe this  subject but, I really did learn a lot from this class. So yeah, here it goes. 

An Epitaph for Myself

Stop!

Halt ye eyes from reading these lines,

For neither of them are kind,

Nor any subtle and divine,

These epitaphs of mine,

Could never make your love back entwined,

Only to cut the lines,

And never to recombine,

I sat on the chair looking up the hill,

The sun is out and the wind is still,

Then, that was where I was killed,

By the one I love, but I love you, still.

I knew those were going to hurt,

With my love uncased, and my calls unheard,

My love to you is apparently overt,

To you, or possibly your love desert,

I am none other than inert.

And here alas, hath laid I in dirt.

But,

You are the one that meets my eyes

In love and hope my prayers pry,

In you, my heart will not deny,

For He knows where these all really lie,

In the name of love I will always try.

And no, this is not just another lie.

For I hope, truth crowds me till I die.

April 26^th, 2013, 4.09 a.m.