Love is a battlefield

She open her eyes, staring at the blank ceiling. “This is it another morning”, She says. Her hand reaches the small radio at her bedside. She turns on some random catchy music, pulls off the white blanket, and leap out from her bed. She wraps a robe around her body, then glides with her night socks still on, making a brief small dance across to her small kitchen.

She giggled.

Alone.

She puts the kettle on the stove, waiting for that whistling sound,

It becomes music to her ears for years, It becomes her routines.

She makes herself a cup of coffee, and walk out to the terrace. She can feels the bracing air against her face, simultaneously hugging herself against the wind, trying to keep herself warm.

Inevitable noise come from the shops underneath,people are busy chatting, rushing, bargaining. A new beginning.

A new day for everyone.

She looks into the distance,

Her eyes brimming with tears,

This is not the life she imagined living.

She had a dream,

Her dream and his dream,

It was their dreams.

People said she was different,

He was different,

People warned that their fairytales dont exist,

Their dreams were absurd.

Eventually, their dreams were 

crashed and burned,

Tormented and ruined,

She remembered vividly,

It was a battlefield,

Full of chaos, madness 

and rage,

She had scars and bruises,

He was wounded and caged.

They lose the fight.

She was disheartened by the defeat,

Her soul was left buried,

She revolved into a walking bones,

Roaming and wandering,

looking for a home.

Those were the days when she felt months were like years,

and years were like ages,

The night become her hardest,

The days become her lowest.

People said it just a phase, 

But she knows she will never be the same,

She’s no longer that person,

She is just a body with a name.

She’s breath in the air.

Sipping the warm coffee,

Her hand hold tightly to the cup,

She knows she’s perfectly fine here, 

living by herself.

Alone.

She crane her neck looking down to the street from her terrace. There are lots of hustle and bustle going around.

Sometimes, she wish the world stood still for a moment,

So that she can merge with the group,

Walking with the pack,

She wanted to blend in,

She wanted to feel belongs,

Their dreams will be her dreams,

Their hopes will be her hopes,

Their perfection,

will be her reflection.

Deep down inside she understands, the only way to victory is 

To be alike,

Like the crowd.