Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Sun

Is it the comfort that I give
because I'll never leave you?

Maybe you'll figure out how to do things by yourself;
maybe I'll figure out how to travel by myself.

I loved you like how these hands wanted to hold the sun;
that no matter how hard people laugh at it,

no matter how impossible,
it is still the warmth that I dreamt of.

Be it absurd, I would still love to hold the sun.
Because in the end I'm the one who's holding my dreams.

Not those people.
None of them.

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