Secretly

I look at you, secretly.
Your face, your smile, your heart of gold shining through.

I listen to you, secretly.
The way you talk, the way you laugh, even the sound of you breathing.

I dream of you, secretly.
Sweet, romantic, out of this world episodes.

I befriended time, to wait for you to look my way.
I befriended chance, for you to see me as I am.
I want to let it out, but I can't.
I never knew how.
All those things I'm afraid you'll never know,
Cos I love you, secretly.

Layered

A person is like layered cake. Sometimes they look so delectable, with fluffy white frosting, glistening red strawberries and colorful sprinkles. However, inside, the may hide the most bitter chocolate cake ever. Or the blackest burned cake ever. Or it grows fungus that can possibly harm you.  

A person is like layered cake. They can look unappetizing. Messy frosting, dull strawberries and broken sprinkles. But once you get a taste of it, it has the most moist cake ever. The sweetness of the fruits is just right. The cream is light and delicious. The sprinkles are tutti-fruity.  

It's an old saying, but it's almost always true. You can't really judge someone out of their outer layer. A person can have the prettiest, most handsome exterior, but has a heart of evil. A person can look so composed and happy, but hides the most tragic stories. A person can look so haggard and battered, but posses a heart of gold. 

Look through their masquerade, straight through their heart. See how they interact with someone inferior than they are. Observe how the treat elders. Then, you'll see what a person is really made off. Then, you won't regret a single judgment formed in your mind. 

♥

Why do I have a heart? Unlike others, every beat of my heart is a sharp thrust, stabbing me over and over again. A heart should be your source of life. Mine? It's a source of pain.

I remember when the thought came into mind. It was when I saw your face as you look at her. When I hear your voice as you said goodnight to her. When I saw your eyes that twinkles at mere sight of her. When I hear you laugh at the most ordinary things she said.

From that day on, I started to curse the existence of my heart. I started to despise the amount of love it has, because it came with an even bigger amount of hurt and ended with the biggest amount of hatred.

I've tried to find a cure, something to heal or to fix this devastating condition. But it's as if I'm living a groundhog day. Every time my heart swells with love, soaring through the sky of happiness, it always came crushing down, pound and broken and not salvageable. No cure, nothing, can heal or fix it, let-alone make it whole again.

Today, I'm living each day holding my battered heart. Praying for a different day, a different outcome. Hoping for someone who've seen how my heart is but accept it anyway. Hoping for someone kind enough not to break it. Hoping for someone strong enough to protect it. Hoping that... somewhere out there... that someone exists.