Dear M. I. O,
I hope this meets you in good health. Who am I kidding, it'll never come close to meeting you but I'll write and while at it, pretend you're reading this.
I'll make this brief. I know I left with no traces. I am a living ghost. They see me yet are blinded to my existence. You my chouchou I've over time become one of 'Them'. This doesn't bother me one bit, if for anything, I love it. The invincibility comes with a warm cold peace. The pindrop silence all around me makes it easy to hear you coming. I know you'll come and that's why I'm still waiting. It's been two years, my mind is tired but my heart is strong and waiting.
I am guessing you've learnt some basic French now. I laugh out aloud sometimes when I imagine you saying words like: j'ai faim, je suis fatigué and saying je t'aime to me. Take care of you and don't over work yourself.


Love,
Chouchou

Let me start from the beginning
The birth of an old me
I was an irregular breed in a regular space
But I was happy
They all found me weirdly different
But I thought me to be normal
What does normal mean to you ?
Amidst all the madness of constant loneliness,
Papa fading off the picture and Mama too busy to warm a couch
I befriended the voice in my head and our conversations were and still is superb
I grew, fast, really fast

He spoke to me
No
Not an actual voice
But I swear I could hear his voice from his chat
And it sounded just like the voice in my head
He sounded exactly like me
I found a me in the opposite sex
The weird self talks have blossomed into a talk with an actual being
One I could see, touch and hold
He had the most beautiful smile
It seemed perfect
Still is
In my head
It was a union of perfection
Untill I found out his true intent
He walked in to my life
Out of my head
Just to whisper into my hearts ears
"nothing is real"
He leaves, this time not in a hurry
But with swag
Knowing fully well the the absurd moi will keep searching for "real" till my dying day


F. T.O. J. A. S

PraisesPblaze:
***
This beans won't cook themselves.

The rumbling of my enclosed vaccum won't stop.

If i don't make the move, i may fall down.

And no protein would catch me from the law of gravity.

I have to swallow my pride, my palms needs to pick them first.

Then it hit me; i fractured my wrist.

Oh, i need a visitor. I just wish you are on your way.

But wishes ain't horses.

I've got Fair Weather Friends.



***
Forgive the spacing, am using a button phone.

Just playing with words, am not a poet.

*Lovely post OP*

This is actually beautiful

Sitting in a halfly lited room with a bowl of uncooked beans in front of me wondering why you haven't picked up your phone to dial my digits.
Why?
I shouldn't let this be a boarder but I can't go through my day normally without constantly wondering
why?

Why do I miss you this much?

I know I shouldn't be open to such pleasurable but yet painful feeling but thoughts of you have consumed my entire being.
I miss your smile and how you look at me without even looking. How beautifully those glasses sits on your nose. How large your hands are. I touch them now but yet feel nothing. I stare into your eyes but my gaze is met with emptiness.
You, my sweetest, are here with me even if it's in a fantastical reality, my own mysterious world, I know you are here.
I should pick up my phone and call
You now, just to be sure you are still there, still breathing, just to hear you say hi baby
But I can't
No I can't
I can't even when I want to
I can't cause I need you to show me how much you want me
Show me you yarn for me as much as I for you
Show me you'll catch me even when I'm falling backwards
Show me simply you care
Care enough to be here, always and forever
Just show me
But alas! !
Times up !!!
This is how things should be
Should remain

This beans won't cook themselves...