Sparks.
By afparungao - Thursday, November 19, 2009
They call it mojo, I call it sparks.
Things turned cold these past few months. I've lost the warmth sometime between October and November. I've lost the passion for certain things quickly that sometimes I think I'm moving with things too fast. The shining, shimmering pixie dusts were gone, and all I have are gray ashes in my palms. I'm not sure where the luster went, but I miss it. I miss it a lot.
Twinkling no more, I look for the signs. Signs I'd always look for. But they seem to be disappearing on me. Me thinks it's all because of the anxiety. Anxious of the things for the future. Unseen events, slowly unfold in a not so proper way.
I want things to shine again. I want them to sparkle, as if they were new. I long for it to be surrounded by a million stars, lighting my way back to the sparks I think I lost along the way.
Make this one mine.
Things turned cold these past few months. I've lost the warmth sometime between October and November. I've lost the passion for certain things quickly that sometimes I think I'm moving with things too fast. The shining, shimmering pixie dusts were gone, and all I have are gray ashes in my palms. I'm not sure where the luster went, but I miss it. I miss it a lot.
Twinkling no more, I look for the signs. Signs I'd always look for. But they seem to be disappearing on me. Me thinks it's all because of the anxiety. Anxious of the things for the future. Unseen events, slowly unfold in a not so proper way.
I want things to shine again. I want them to sparkle, as if they were new. I long for it to be surrounded by a million stars, lighting my way back to the sparks I think I lost along the way.
Make this one mine.
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