Come sit with me, hear my tales of longing. Promise me you'll give one last dance, and with it, my heart will fly. You know you had me at hello, but yes, hello contrived knight-in-shining-armour-atop-white-stallion.
Days limp by, gaunt, haggard. If walls could speak, they'll tell you my story. Delicate rustlings into your ear, whispering.. whispering. Hear, the ticking of the time-bomb. Soon, the sands will wrench adjacent beings apart, mocking the screams of protest. If only you'd held on tighter. Senescence - so lethal, in every sense of the word. Cinderella in the ballroom clutching her remaining glass slipper. Tales of longing.
Hollowed hearts, fading fables of gold-spun thread. Neither one was heaven sent, we died in each other. Run, run into the vistas of the mind you held for me. Plunge the dagger into the heart that once bled, spilled, like tears over the bedside. I dug a piece of my heart out everyday and presented it to you like a Christmas turkey on a silver platter. (You were supposed to glue them all together.)
But you didn't.
Vanessa Lim 4:22 a. m.
