Still Aching, Still Still
Still aching, still still
It’s almost dark, and the sun is already giving up from waiting too long for the moon to kiss him good night. Nearby, city lights are seen waking up slowly from their sleep. Then there’s a calm feeling that tiptoes into a homeless tiny boy’s heart when he looks up to swallow the stars as they begin their daily routine of sewing the skies with their warmth. There goes an echo after a single leaf fell down to the ground from which tree it belonged. Nearby, little flowers are singing silently to the song that echoes from the wind’s passing. But one thing that is almost known by the universe, is the soft heavy sigh that always come from a river between these little flowers and trees, between the people and city lights, and between the world and the stars.
It is uncertain when it started, but ever since then, the night is always achingly lonely just as the river is. But the river is still. And the river is quiet.
Sometimes. the river’s cries can be heard during rainstorms, it’s almost not there, but it is, as the river never really wants anyone to know about its nightmares. Sometimes, the river hums a tune to which leaves from the world above escape to and lead them to places unknown. Sometimes, the river dance when people encourage it to, their skin loving the river’s every rhythmic wavy touch, and the river swallows all the attention as it never really want to feel sad all the time. But sometimes, when everything is still, the river is still, and the river is quiet, and the river is quietly sobbing.
It is still uncertain, but the universe knows it eminently, that the river is aching, still aching, and that the river is still, still still.
(eusie.)
More Posts from Thsdfnngslnc and Others
Yes I want to write this fic. No I don’t want to figure out what happens in it. Also no I don’t want to write it <3
Look and you'll see
a.k.a. I’ll try to write about you one more time ft. Love is…
Your eyes speak of daydreams turned into wishful thoughts that keep me awake at night; like perfectly made snowflakes that’ll tickle my nose as they fall, only they slip away from my skin. The way you breathe is like a memory I cannot remember to forget. And sometimes, I can’t believe myself, that I feel every move of the air surrounding you like how I feel your every existence — your presence within my radius. But know this: I’ll never get to see if your heart rages out of your ribcage as our eyes meet, or get to know if you deny the urge to create chaos inside your lungs once you realize I’m standing near you. Because I don’t know if I’m the only one who doesn’t try to ignore the cry of our souls, or maybe it’s really just me who feels like crying. You look like a falling star, only I’m the one who’s falling and I’m full of wishes about you. And know this: sometimes love is never having what you want like how I can’t have you. In the end, time is the only one I trust to blow me away from the havoc inside my head created by you.
(eusie.)
Chasing Stars
Synopsis
I learned that sometimes, when soulmates meet, they’re just destined that way.
He said he’d always choose you. That he had always chose you. In every lifetime. And that you always chose him too. But this time... this time... you think you won’t because you want to fall in love with someone else.
Mga pekeng bulaklak
a.k.a. I hope we were monsters instead
For the first time, I tasted nothing from your lips and it was supposed to make me feel scared. You asked me what it feels like, I replied, “Like fairy dust” — “sweet as a fantasy dripped in purple paint, brushed against the canvass of my tongue.” And I made you smile. And I was supposed to be guilty.
For the 22nd time, your lips still tasted like alcohol. Damn, you just couldn't make my heart flutter. But I asked you what it feels like, and I hear you say — “Like a reckless night that should trouble me but it doesn’t, instead it hushes my clamorous thoughts.” And I gave you a smile. But it wasn't really for you.
(eusie.)
you should spread your smile on my neck, and eat me like i’m your favorite breakfast. then i'll bite the crumbs on your shoulder blades; baby, you're the sweetest dessert
on the table (eusie.)
i am not a dreamer. i do not wish upon stars. they will suck every letter of our dreamy words. they let us taste lies from every glimmer they give for our eyes to hold. they look down on us, laughing. they watch us as our grounds shake, as our souls skin out every last smile we own. i am not a dreamer. i am not hopeful. i do not hope for impossible truths. i do not hope for palpable things to become blur. because reality is right in front of us, taking out every pain in between our eyes for us to feel, and we already can’t do anything about it, but to just accept and take everything. what’s on the tip our tongues are mantras we need to swallow. we need to stop hoping. we need to.
eusie., “to the boy who’s in love with the sun” (an excerpt)
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