Litrato

The only thing keeping me awake is this damn coffee. I'm staying up all night trying to figure out how the hell can one picture ignite something buried underneath the ashes of my past? She's an angel and, at the same time, a human, who fills up the emptiness caused by my imperfections with twisted and complex methods I once defined hell. I can compare her to every little star that shines tonight. She's like any other; dull, asymmetrical, small, one in a milion. Floating in the vast empty space, reflecting the light that shines from some other star. But I've grown somehow attracted to this one little star that I can easily perceive her from the crowd. And also, like all the other stars, she's somewhere so far away and unreachable. I always thought so. Even though we were once so close. There was a space between us that cannot be gapped. A wide, unending space. Scared that if I lurk within it, I'd lose my way back. Funny thing about it, is that it happened. Now she's farther away. Even more today than what I felt before. There is no definition for love in this dictionary I keep. Not after what happened. Not ever. Maybe I can give a little connotation... "A game for fools who selflessly devote their time and loyalty to each other, fools who wear true smiles on their faces." I'm no fool. I'm a nobody. Heartless and cold. Harsh and bitter. After all, I'm all lies. Ain't I?