±. i wonder, why do shooting stars are
often seen falling from the sky—alone?
'twas the bone-chilling breeze and the
serene moonlit night who envelop the
whole atmosphere blended with the
euphonious sound of an old-plaque
playing our favorite song mixed with
the series of crashing waves.
𝘪 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥
𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳.
𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯
𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴.
whilst enjoying the most beautiful
scenery with you, whilst staring at the
vast ocean bathed in the glistened
ivory of reflected lights of the moon,
whilst looking for cassiopeia and orion,
whilst waiting for the shooting star to
pass by on a placid night sky.
𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴, 𝘪 𝘥𝘰
𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴
𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴
𝘮𝘢𝘯, 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘦.
and we both know that these moments
are meant to be treasured even though
we can't stay forever like this. i mean,
as lovely couples. for some reason,
memories are meant to hurt you, it cuts
so deep knowing that destiny doesn't
want us together. love is like a trail of
unending sadness deep inside our
broken hearts. and now, we're like
those lonely souls listening to our
favorite song filled with broken melody
and broken lines that we both don't
want to hear nor sing, like how the rain
drops kissed the ocean and it is no
longer the melted moonlight, those
nights that our swollen eyes can't find
our favorite constellation. but this
time, the shooting star wants to see us
—wants to hear our last wish.
we look at each other and smile.
finally, we slowly utter the words that
we tried to hide into those towering
frayed walls and handwritten letters.
“𝙞 𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙝, 𝙬𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨.”
“𝙞 𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙝, 𝙬𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣—
𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚.”
and that moment, those words are like
bullets in my chest. i realized that i am
the only one who wants us back—again.
Photo from Pinterest
©a.rosie
A