Aainaa Narilsa | extremely high imaginary writer

#53- Half Of Me



I walk in a circle of silence, as if I am held like a leech in a jar of thick glass.
The embodiment, like a dark & silent kind of silhouette.

Dreaded.
Rotten.
Just another whimsical bleak night.

Stumbled upon those astonishing orbs of passion & sincerity.
Solemnly, it crippled me. Are you still exist?
It is just another distraction. Forget it. Forget everything.
Creeping in the dark, trying to find it back.
Where could it be? Where should I find it? What have I done?
Are you still exist?

We think too much, and feel so little.

I guess I have to be so happy for being too miserable.
But why should you go far far away from me.
You left me behind, with nothing more than a misery.
I couldn't stand being like this, I'm suffering; unbearable.
Suffocated.

What have I done? What have you done to me?
Give me back the other half of  me.
Give me back my pseudonym.
I'm incomplete.
I'm nothing without me.


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