It won't last

I. The type of silences that never goes away

Silences that are nothing but an empty, echoing void filled with held-back words and clumsy thoughts (because your presence always seems to be as distracting as the traffic in Times Square— loud, obnoxious, never-ending). These silences intimidate me: so suffocating. The vacuum drowning my entire body -like the oceans i've cried every night over you— yet when I drown, I float. I let go of all my inhibitions and gently waver between the lines of fantasy and reality because I can't tell the difference between them anymore. As the clock ticks, confusion overrides my mind and soon I crash back down onto the rocky pavement of hard reality and scrape my heart but that's okay because this type of pain reminds me that i'm alive.
And it keeps me awake, even though I'm still wandering.

II. Screaming breaks the silence

Overwhelming frustration, the type that ends in mind-wrenching headaches and paleness, blue-tinged skin with dark, empty eyes and shadowed circles under those glittering orbs (because emptiness and pain can also be beautiful). Anger ending with silence, sadness ending in the forever falling waterfall of black tears— not white, because you've already stolen my innocence

"Nothing left to say?"

Nothing and everything.

"Say something!"

If only I could

"You know I hate when you're quiet"

Yet I can't help it

"...say something. Please?"

I can't. Stop asking me to. I can't stand it.

Don't use that voice. Don't look at me with those eyes.

Don't. Stop. Stop it. Stop it now.

I'm b-b-b-br e a k i n g a-a-a-a p a r t

"I'm sorry."

III. Even angels can fall

A snowstorm of bleached feathers, as soft as your creamy, silken skin like a blanket of stars hung across an ocean of night, each snowflake radiating it's own light like a halo as it falls on my face, burning slightly (a gentle reminder from the angels that my own melting heart is what really hurts) before rolling down my cheeks, like rivulets of tears following familiar paths before shattering as it hits the floor; a hundred more broken tears to echo the thousands of broken hearts to mimic the millions of jagged pieces of glass (and baby, you better hope that I don't accidentally step on them because I don't need to bleed any more than I already have). And the hundreds, thousands, millions of minuscule diamonds isn't even worth what you could be to me, even though each glittering piece is a wish every night that I can stop dreaming of you-Because dreams are dangerous and your parched lips and hungry hands drink up every drop of my purity.
And I can't, don't want to stop you anymore.

IV. Blood, sweat and tears are nothing compared to what i've been through

And i've been through the storms, floods, hails and earthquakes ("is that the sound of my heart breaking?") and you can call me a liar but it's the truth.

"How can I believe you"

You can't.

You can't believe me because I could be lying. Every word I whisper, every word I scribble (dotting the i's and curling the y's because perfection is everything to me and elegance is the image I set myself up for) onto pure ivory pages with blotching black ink spreading like a starving disease could very well be a lie. "You mean the world to me," 's and "You're everything to me" 's and "I can't live without you" 's could just be a figment of our meager, limited imagination.


But I know that I can and will cross mountains and oceans for you (even if it means swimming in my own tears) and that you are not the world to me but you are the sun that my world revolves around because I would've eclipsed long ago without your dazzling smile. Let the truths rip your cloak of lonely dark to shreds, and face me like the sun you are because your imperfections are just what makes you painfully beautiful in my eyes...

...because cliche words, scarlet sunsets and "i love you"'s (so why are my memories so flawless) won't last forever








(...to be edited, rewritten, scrapped, sweared at, scrutinized and continued. 8D)
(c) Isabella Sayuri Tan




NOTE: As similar as it may be to someone's work. I stand by the fact that it's the same format but different words. Different words and different meaning. But respecting her wishes, I took it off everywhere except here. Because this piece.. also means alot to me.