• isn’t it Fun? •

It reminds me of the days when the leaves started falling,

The wind was picking up, so did my heartbeat,

Everything was in motion,

Except for the phone that was laying coldly beside me.

I couldn’t hear the sobbing sound of mine for I was overpowered by the resounding roar of the tidal waves,

Nor could I see the gulf that had long been inviting me for I was blinded by my ignorance mixing with the lies that was sang to me over and over again.

I tried to stay away from the cliff,

Yet the wind kept returning to keep me on edge,

I even tried to dive into the waves,

But the tides never failed to wash me back up unto the plane.

Excruciatingly, I shouted: “what do you want from me!”, never a question, but an exclamation of pain that perceived not by the inflictor.

It wasn’t fun, but the storm seemed to be intensifying, like on ecstasy,

Going back and forth,

And picking me up, and dropping me down, until silence came.

In stillness, my heart stopped,

In darkness, I was robbed of my will to regain myself.

Then, came the call: “Hi. Shall we restart the game?”

Isn’t it fun?

— PurplePen