poetry, proses, short stories, improptu, thoughts, random blahblah. super random content so yeah, you've been warned.
credits to the real owner of the cover.
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she feared life as if it was the monster that made her cry when she was young. she’s scared to live a life as it is because it seems like a beast that roast and toast.
she had stopped reading fairytales when she was five, although it was quite enchanting, she lost the spark of happily ever after.
“𝖎 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉𝖓'𝖙 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖆 𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞 𝖌𝖔𝖉𝖒𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖔 𝖍𝖔𝖜 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖎𝖑𝖞 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖝𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖍𝖊𝖗?” she wondered before closing the box of her once upon a time story of believing magic.
she doubted living when she turned seven, questioning how could people smile and laugh about their day when at some point it render them exhaustion? how could they see life enthralling when all it could give is torment hidden under the quotation of, “everything happens for a reason.”
it wasn't an enchantment nor a magic word, but people heed the saying, which she couldn't understand.
“𝖎𝖋 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖘 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖆 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖔𝖓, 𝖜𝖍𝖞 𝖉𝖔𝖊𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖆 𝖇𝖎𝖌 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓?” she muttered as she stared at the clear blue sky.
her curly hair dances in synchronization with the wind. her doe eyes were full of question and wonder, but never hope and wishes. her heart shaped lips formed a sad frown. her eyes are full of sorrows and despair, it talks a lot more than her mouth could frantically swear.
in her eyes, emotions dances skeptically. you could count various emotion but could never see joy or yelp of satisfaction. she will always doubt every tiny thing she could encounter.
like how could a stranger help a beggar when they don't even know each other? how could someone offer help to a stranger but never did once lend a hand for their family?
“𝖎𝖋 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖙 𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊, 𝖜𝖍𝖞 𝖈𝖆𝖓'𝖙 𝖎𝖙 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖍 𝖒𝖞 𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖉?” she asked, wondering of the things she never had the chance to feel.
she's a fruit of incompatible husband and wife. she grew up unable to comprehend what's love and happiness, but could differentiate pain and sadness.
she discovered magic inside his father's library. there she often read fairytales and sneak those book inside her room. but then she woke up one day, realizing that fairytales are never true. they're just work of art. because if it is indeed true, why can't a fairy godmother save her from the wrath of her own home? why can't she find peter pan to bring her to neverland?
she could often hear her father and mother scream at each other when no one's at home but when the camera's rolling they'd be all smile. most of the time, even if she's engulf in silence her mother will always scold her. filtrating her mind of words she can't quite grasp but had a hint that it hurts when understand.
even when she was young, she tasted the wrath of life. her eyes were wide opened to the world's harsh reality. that living isn't an option but rather an obligation to suffer.
she feared life as if it was the monster she always cried when she was young. she’s scared to live a life as it is because it seems like a beast that roast and toast. for her, living isn't only a lifetime. it's actually scarred deep within. that even if death might come upon her, it can't alter the memories she had lived.
living in her own eyes is livid. it's sad and excruciating to see. living will just make you assume things. it would ask you to see magic even though in reality there is only monster. it tells you that there are superheroes but you could only see capes that could strangle you to death.
living in her own eyes is full of agony. that even iffelicity is right beside her, she will still choose to be a crestfallen.
(the first photo is mine. credits to the owner of the other photo. photo from pinterest.)
