She’s scared. Her heart slowly pounds on her chest, every beat is an effort to feel it.

She’s scared. Picking up her red tie and grouping her hair to set it up. She tries to put a smile on her face, it failed.

She’s been tired the whole day. Maybe, she’s not really scared. Switching the lights off to dimmer the place. Her eyes start to swell and another attempt to pull her lips to a curve, failed.

She sighed. She struggles not to think but, everything seems to blank out. It’s been a while since she felt like this and she no longer knows how to deal with it.

Perhaps, she’s wrong about not feeling scared. Perhaps, she no longer recognize the way it looks but she remembers how it feels. Maybe, she hid too long, thinking that denying it will make a difference.

She’s scared and she can’t think straight. She disappointed herself again and blaming someone else is never her option.

Randomly, paper hearts plays on. Her hands gently stroke every words she can’t really say. Her lips mouth every single letters. Softly, she let out another sigh. She paused and thought to herself, “You’re just tired”, and tried to believe it. Then, she whispered, “But, in the end, they, too, get tired and eventually leave..”

She stopped feeling scared.

She, probably, stopped feeling.

My favorite brand. No cup available here tho

cooked this for this post

I've been listening to modern poets with their random words and witty lines.
I try to find some inspiration, might get motivated to write my own version.
Yet when I try to think of a clever line or words that rhyme, I find myself writing about you.
You're like this force that draws every bit of me towards you. Like gravity, pulling every matter to the center of the earth.
All your clichés brightens my every day.
My day which only starts when you greet me, "good morning.."
Morning which doesn't really matter how early or late that is, when my day and night only consist of your good mornings and good nights.
Night that I feel so long when you're still asleep and I wait for you to turn up like I wait by the open ocean for a swell wave to ride back to the shore.
That long shore, welcoming me, like your arms stretched out, willing to take the tired me in. Wrap me in your warmth without judgement on how I stood or fell from my board.
But I don't want this to end and only talk about you.
I want this to be about the universe, about the stars and why aliens have yet to comeback.
I want this to be about My favorite writer, the books I read, the places where I love to read, the kind of shows that interest me, the movies I re-watch every time a certain feeling urges to be satisfied.
How I find watching people fascinating and my attempts, Oh! my attempts to change the subject of this rambling. But, no matter how I shifted the words and twisted the lines, it always pulls me back, to you.
Like two ends of a magnet's pole, my tongue and my brain points to you.
The you, who I find hard to trust but I tell everything to.
You, with your secrets covered by your flowery words and silence when you feel bored yet you don't want tell me. Oh! How I wish you tell me 'coz I know you get tired. I know, we've been a routine for quite a while now. But hey, I hate your silence, if you must know.
I hate when you can not talk to me and I response quicker than Superman dodging from a speeding bullet the soonest I hear from you. You're like this kryptonite weakening my defences. Like the hulk, smashing over my towering walls.
But me without you is like Batman in a crime-less Gotham, battling with myself in the dark. Hoping for the bat signal to light up my clouded starless sky.