xx Ella.Z

Writing is an underestimated art. To the one who once asked me to write something, this one's for you. You once told me to write something about you. I laughed at that moment, thinking that I couldn't write you out. I wanted to but I refused. Because to me, writing means forgetting and I didn't want to forget you, not just yet. But guess what? I'm writing this one out for you. I'm writing you out of how you made me feel lucky to have you even just for a little while. I'm writing you out to remind me that I wasn't alone every single night with having you from the other side. I'm writing you out to reminisce me of all the words you once drew to make my heart flutter like it's true. I'm writing you out to make me recognize you in my mind, over and over again, if only you knew. Indeed, writing means forgetting but somehow, writing you out means remembering, missing and hoping. 

Long distance kills and so, I wrote this --a  past lover of mine were miles away and I just couldn't stop myself from missing him. Petals, Sticking to a flower, Beautiful but brings me sorrow. As I'm counting them to wait, For that moment I called, fate. I count the days with those petals, One by one, I started to pluck, With my heart hoping for a luck. For every petal carries a hope, Please to know that I can't cope, Anymore, Any longer, Because with you around, I am much stronger. I want you to meet me again, Like a drought waiting for the rain, You fall to my hand once again. And as for those petals I count, I wish they will never be found, For pain lies in every one of it, Leading a pathway for a quit. But I don't want to quit! I want to keep waiting, Sitting, Pacing. I'm here to have you back, And you shall bring the light, Of my days shaded in black. Petals, They flew far away, As the...

Is this love or am I just catching feelings? I turn him into an art when I'm clueless to know the real meaning. How can I explain this feeling? To feel yet to know if it's real. A strange feeling of missing someone, Though he's here and never gone. He knew nothing of this longing, I don't know where this is going. So then I wrote him in my heart, To turn this feeling into an art.

To the guy who has my heart but fell for another. I was too late to realize my own feelings. I want to say, "I miss you." but surely, you wouldn't believe it. I want to say, "Stay, don't leave me." but you would rather walk away with it. I want to say, "I love you." but it's too late, your heart belongs to her, isn't it?

Missing him is slowly becoming a bad habit. So then, I write this out to remind me not to miss him again and again. There's a feeling I could not resist, to say it right while being fine. I shudder to the least, saying "I miss you" for the first time. But who am I to miss? When you're someone, not even mine.