She’s more myself than I am

Written by Elysian Huyz

These days am so busy I don’t have time to think,

The job doesn’t pay much but I do it anyways 

It takes so much that at the end of the day I don’t have energy enough to feel

I just fall into the loneliest corner of my bed and drain out whatever memory I had of you.

This is a good thing,

Considering am an insomniac.

It usually takes 30 minutes before I realize I should probably sleep.

Then thoughts of impending doom start flying into my head.

Am sorry,

Lately I’ve not been able to write.

I get inspiration once in a while,

When she mistakenly trips into my mind.

Then it aches… 

My mind,

My heart,

I don’t know which. 


Beautiful Mondays

I love Mondays.

But Sundays

Mundane Sundays,

I abandoned the father 

So on Sundays I don’t get down on my knees to pray 

I just sit and reminice on the pain 

The incident  that occurred 7 months 

20 days and some hours ago

No,  am not counting. 

 Am sorry you left me

It was probably my fault

Probably because I didn’t realize how empty I’d be without you breathing down my neck,

I didn’t realize how important you were

I thought you’d always be there

Always be mine

I never dreamt of leaving you so I felt our dreams were the same.

How insane.

So this is just a futile attempt to hide from you

But it’s working,

At least for the time being.

Last night I had a dream which  confirms that you’re rooted in my subconscious.

I was on a road,

I saw you from a distance 

Running away.

From what I couldn’t understand.

So as I always do I went down that road chasing after you. 

In the dream I catch up with you

You hug me and  kiss me 

You say you miss me

You regret leaving

You love me. 

As I write this, the dream fades from my mind,

the scenery of your elusive presence is erased.

I woke up realizing it was night and I was alone


You were never here all along.


Tomorrow is Monday 

But no matter how hard I work

No matter how hard I try to forget,

I can never for get myself 

And that’s what I made you into – me.

So when Monday comes I’ll continue my futile efforts to get rid of the you in myself.

Art: Wyeth Andrew



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