Fiction Campus
PROSA: Back to Home
It turns out, after days of living without a mind, we can not number the two feelings. A pinch of you and me here, clashing steps and ways to keep it looking interesting. We forget how to be happy. We forget how to appreciate ourselves.
Sometimes it is too much of a desire to quit, rather than to repaint yourself. We force ourselves too boldly. Test guts that never brimmed and belied confidence. Eroding yourself as if to be a hobby of suicide.
I always said to him, "So our feelings just let it come and ready to eat. Demi is available in nutrition for our future plates. Sitting on a romance table and clashing spoon likes and sorrows. Painting each other smiles and rocking your hips in the morning. It ends at the mouth of the sentence I love you."
Can we be like that? Today you are no longer here. I already know there's nothing you can dismantle in my house anymore. My things you've brought to a new home. I used to knock on the door when I came home. I don't know why I was kicked out. I thought it was my house, but it wasn't.
Where were you then? Why don't you open the door again? You don't change, but somehow you don't look the same. I arrived on the second to third day later. Walk under the bridge, look for the wet sand on the edge of the river, and tear apart the small stones in the sand.
Even though living like that is a boring life, at least God never betrays. I also try not to run away from Him. He always accompanied me, created a new home, and made me feel like my home was never lost. It's just me you kicked out of the comment field. Let him that we used to guard, remain a moderator in the room of the house.
You're not that bad, are you? Come on, you can be like before. Have we not forgiven each other without speaking. Aye, right? I'm right, aren't I? I even felt a lack of ugliness on the face of one quintal. You're the one at the moment looking over a dose of beauty. I look at you starting the same again. Yeah, white like our kitchen plates used to be.
Big days are impossible when there is no comment. So I criticize the new house you stopped by. Which used to be our home together. You stole it with gentleness. I'm the stupid one or you're the insensitive one. I gave everything to you that couldn't die without my presence.
The house unfortunately I saw dry. Have you ever planted a tree in front of your yard? You're bad too, huh? There were no flowers I found. Tega. That's yourselves. It's enough that you make a drama movie. Shouldn't we start playing that movie? A household drama. A drama starring plates and spoons we're both at the table. I think we should go back home.