Purple, the color of love


How foolish can I be to be in love with you.

Too much insults and slur yet my world still revolves on you.

My feelings is overwhelming that it makes me naive.

Pink is not the color of love, it’s purple.

Combined with anger and wondering, expectations and happening, reality and dream, it’s fancy and confusing.

The time is magical, the day is a mysterious journey.

Your smile tickles me from within, but your words slit me on my fragile skin.

It’s like a fresh wound salted.

It can never be healed.

Promises and vows became just merely words.

Spoken, with no occurrence.

What to believe?

Am I still capable of believing?

The ability is almost forgotten.

If we will end up broken, what can be left of me?

If you’ll just leave me behind, can I still stand?

The thoughts are madness, the image of it is insane.

I won’t let it.

No, I can’t.

But what if you’ll beg for it?

Can I stand it?

To see your pleading eyes, asking for your freedom.

Freedom it is, that’s what your asking.

Freedom it is, you keep on insisting.

Freedom it is, I keep holding it in.

Holding on to the sweet things that we’ve shared.

But, until when?


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