I whispered your name into my darkened room, half waiting half hating for and with myself, thinking you'll answer back.
It's too cold tonight, I need the illusion of your arms and the promise of safety your embrace brings.
You are still embedded in the deepest of my being. I would stop running now, escaping the memories of you is futile, even if I try.
I whispered your name in the darkness, thinking, perhaps this time, you'll answer back.
Tuesday 9 September 2014
3 to 25: Illusions
A child of God, the eldest of 3, and in a great pursuit of serving her Purpose. She's currently on her quest of ticking off some items from her to-do list, cooking with either Jaime Oliver or Anthony Bourdain, climb the peak of Machu Picchu, learn the traditional way of Filipino paghahabi and go on tour with Cirque de Soleil as a part of their production staff, to name a few.
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