Saturday, July 27, 2013

the heart beats with the wrong tune

It all started with one broken heart, and I guess it would also end with another broken heart.

He, with a conked out heart, wanted some time to think, to breathe and maybe, to forget the pain. With the sun racing towards the horizon, the air started to feel colder, the bright day light slowly turned to bright orange and pink streaks, soon it turned dull, then velvet, sooner the street lamps started to flicker and served as the brightest light around. He was seated for hours that the motorcycle parked near has fallen asleep and the crickets started to chant.

She, with a searching heart, came with a book that comes with the title How to be really really HAPPY. She sat at the bench and for hours read the pages of the book until the sun raced towards the horizon, the air started to feel colder, the bright day light slowly turned to bright orange and pink streaks, soon it turned dull, then velvet, sooner the street lamps started to flicker and served as the brightest light around. She was seated for hours that her shoes had already fallen asleep and the crickets started to chant.

He soon met her. And she, met him halfway.
They’ve met on a windy twilight; this bench knows the entire story.

Soon, he was driving fast to the park and she would wait at the bench. He would cry his heart out, and she, would listen with her heart, slowly being filled up. He talks, she listens, up until the street lamps become the only brightest light around.

Soon, the bench smelled coffee, pizza came in too. It saw some smiles, soon, laughters.
And so, he found her, and she found him.

But alas, she found herself falling.

But, one day as they were seated at the bench, she came – came back.
She has never seen him that happy; but she, found herself never been so sad but now.

He took the drooling motorbike, its engine, alive again, he rode off, with her.
And she, was left with her book and a memory.



Minsan, the heart beats with the wrong tune, 
but that doesn’t mean it’s not the song of love. 
Yakapin ang sakit, at hayaang tumibok ang puso. It’ll grow tired soon, and move on.

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