Do not promise me promises that you promise you would make
because we both know your history with promises.
Do not promise me forever when your tomorrows are
limited to now and next month or perhaps the next two months.
Practise how to keep vows, look in the mirror and repeat the words over,
over and over again.
Until you can understand the value of a promise, please stop taking
promises so lightly because they are serious words.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Enough Is Enough.”
Me: I saw you with her yesterday morning. I thought you said you haven’t spoken to her in months.
You: It was just a coincidence that we meet downtown.
Me: You look pretty cosy…
You: Babe…
Another broken heart, another disappointment that maybe I am not meant for a romantic love relationship. If it happens more than twice that means something is wrong with me, not them right? Just more confirmation for me that love and I should stay at opposite ends of the sphere. The excuses are the same, maybe with a slight variation but the main reasons of cheating and lying stays the same. It becomes easier after the first or second time but the heart still hurts. There is no more ‘us’ but ‘you’ and ‘me.’ No more planning for the future just the memories of yesterday to go over and over. Analysing every detail to figure out how did I miss that red flag, until my head starts pounding. I screamed “this is it I am done with love,” calling all my girlfriends to tell them the great news. Romantic love and I are at war. I have my game face and bleep attitude to every guy who simply said hi. I was bitter, I knew it but my reasoning was protection for my heart.
If I did not protect my heart, who would? I mean look what the others guys did, do you really believe those other guys are different?
Source: Yelhispressing
In response to The Daily Post’s writing
prompt: “Easy Fix.”
Source: homemadeforelle.com
I apologized to my face for the weeks of neglect, grabbed the nearest exfoliating scrub preparing my face for a needed facial. Yes, I could feel the rough yet gentle rub as I massaged my face in tender strokes. “Why did I take so long to do this,” I heard myself say to myself. It is a question, I am still trying to answer from yesterday. After scrubbing and applying toner, I immediately felt and saw a difference in my face. Not as smooth as a baby’s bottom difference but I am in my skin so I know something was not exactly the same. Yet I wanted more reassure other than from the mirror and my fingers. Thus, I grabbed my camera for a selfie to compare notes to an older photo from the morning.
Ladies let us remind each other to take care of our face or else they will go on strike.
Story inspired by A Moment in Time on Daily Prompt.
I still have a thing for pencils, you know the one with the short stumpy head that some of you are dying to sharpened to your pointy perfection. Pens are essential as well, the feel of a black ink pen does wonders to a clean slate. However, the lead of a pencil connects in a way with my creative juices that pales in comparison to an ink stain or a sturdy keyboard. Pencils excite me now the same way they did in kindergarten. I stopped collecting pencils with different patterns, words and colour when my niece and little sister spied my stash. At the beginning, I did not want to share when I saw empty spaces in my special cup. Yet, over time, I understood the power of a pencil and I could not deny my role in encouraging writing.
Pencil time means writing time, it tells me go ahead just write what you think and feel in your journal. It urges me to write unedited, meaning I say it how it is, knowing that no one would see those words. Yes, I do write that way when I use a keyboard but when I edit the grammatical errors and tame the tough lines, the word changes. My pencils and my notepads act as my colouring book when I cross out minute old thoughts without using an eraser. It is a deliberate act which makes my heart content. My journal accepts my words as they are, no protest ever. It is the sketch pad for jotting down the first draft of a journal article. My pencils and my notepad/journal welcomes my poems covered with quotes and doodles in the margins.
My pencil and I have a good thing going on but I do appreciate the keyboard era. Now I just need a way to copy and paste from my notes to my screen.
Story inspired from Daily Prompt: Pens and Pencils
Yelhispressing 