A different story with the same title.
This chant is becoming my personal tune that I keep singing to myself over and over as every second passes by. In a gathering such as this, pact with friends and family, I will always strive to keep a cheerful face, stretching the muscles of my cheeks to make the corners of my lips rise to form a pleasant smile, but truthfully everything is just a pretence mask of my true feelings. When I'm alone again, the smile I kept for hours would slowly loosen its muscle, wilting into a natural frown.
In every party, social gatherings or events, organized by my aunt for the past eight years, I've always been the same. Lately, it got me thinking just how far I can take all this? Consequently and unconsciously, I have become two separate people; this happy-go-lucky girl who would dance out of boredom, make phony jokes and produce counterfeit laughter and the serious, quiet and lonely hermit who sits at small hidden corners of the room waiting agonizingly for the party to settle down. This has become a normal occurrence that no one could make out my real emotions. That is why I find it unnerving when a young and good-looking man, possibly around my age and the son of one of my uncle's acquaintances, invades my tiny private corner and asks me without reserve, "You don't like these kinds of gatherings, do you? I can see it in your face even though you pretend to do so."
In my shock and blank state, I stare into his all-knowing blue eyes and felt a stab through my composure, making my head reel in dizziness and my heart beating like jungle drums in my ears. Immediately, I tear my gaze away, I fear he would distinguish every little hidden details of my soul. With my nervous forged smile in place and my eyes focus on the colorful lights on the wall behind him, I proudly deny, "I... I don't know what you mean by that." As I speak, the bile rose in my throat threatening to choke and expose my uneasy feelings, I swallow it down while keeping my eyes away from his laughing face, straightening my back and crossing my arms in front of me in stubborn denial. In my mind questions begin to form; who is he? What does he want with me? How does he know what I feel? A strange and forgotten feeling crept onto me, enveloping my entire being, leaving me nakedly expose to his piercing eyes.
He lets out a constrain breath of laughter and gaze down at my red painted cheeks. "Now, now there is no need for you to look like that. You don't need to hide your feelings with me." Casually, he takes the seat beside me on the cushion bench and stretch out his long and thick legs, flexing the muscles of his thigh making me more aware of his tall and athletic built. Our eyes met, for a brief second but I could feel a pull in my distant memory as if I have seen him before. He smile teasingly, "The name's Luca, you're Maya, Mrs. Addison's niece. We've met before but I doubt you could remember. I could sense that you're somewhat different now—" He stops at the look of my white pale face and stiff form.
The word "different" make me straighten my back in an act of aching offence. A mixed feeling of anger and pain pour down on me. It's been years since someone could affect my emotions so strongly. The scar in my heart that I thought would heal is now reopening just by hearing his simple words. Water droplets form at the corners of my eyes threatening to overflow so I turn my face away from his concern gaze but he restrain me by taking hold of my proudly pointed chin and firmly turning my bright, teary gaze to face his deep eyes and elegantly structured features. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to hurt you; it's just that you've changed a lot. Your eyes... they've always tell a great deal of stories..." he whispers in amazement. His soft, comforting fingers brush the tears dangling at the corner of my eyes and all I could do is stare into those deep blue eyes that promises to absorb all my pain from the past. For the second time in eight years, I feel deeply connected to another being. With eyes begging for a chance, he asks "Will you trust me... if I say I would do anything to remove the pain in your eyes?"
Silence stretch between us as I turn away from him. My mind wanders to a passing memory kept locked deep in the back of my mind of a boy named Luca who reached out to hold my hand when all trust and happiness was drawn out of me from losing the people I love the most. I remember that same simple, comforting words and soothing touch reaching deep into my soul where none ever has. All the fear of hurting people's feelings, being left alone, losing that tiny space inside their heart. He seizes them all away in a single glance without any explanation or complains. His concerned eyes searching my face for a sign of recognition, "Do you remember me?"
As I look upon his open and friendly face, the answer came full blown to me. There is no reason for hesitation; I remember it now that fateful day. I lay my cold hand on his outstretched palm and the tips of my lips lift creating a dazzling smile that reaches up to my dark-brown eyes. "I remember now."
His warm fingers capture my hand, adamant and unwavering, not letting go.
Poetry by syer
Read 1191 times
Written on 2009-04-20 at 18:05
Tags Trust Love Lost
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Trust. 2nd Version
Smile Maya. Just keep smiling.This chant is becoming my personal tune that I keep singing to myself over and over as every second passes by. In a gathering such as this, pact with friends and family, I will always strive to keep a cheerful face, stretching the muscles of my cheeks to make the corners of my lips rise to form a pleasant smile, but truthfully everything is just a pretence mask of my true feelings. When I'm alone again, the smile I kept for hours would slowly loosen its muscle, wilting into a natural frown.
In every party, social gatherings or events, organized by my aunt for the past eight years, I've always been the same. Lately, it got me thinking just how far I can take all this? Consequently and unconsciously, I have become two separate people; this happy-go-lucky girl who would dance out of boredom, make phony jokes and produce counterfeit laughter and the serious, quiet and lonely hermit who sits at small hidden corners of the room waiting agonizingly for the party to settle down. This has become a normal occurrence that no one could make out my real emotions. That is why I find it unnerving when a young and good-looking man, possibly around my age and the son of one of my uncle's acquaintances, invades my tiny private corner and asks me without reserve, "You don't like these kinds of gatherings, do you? I can see it in your face even though you pretend to do so."
In my shock and blank state, I stare into his all-knowing blue eyes and felt a stab through my composure, making my head reel in dizziness and my heart beating like jungle drums in my ears. Immediately, I tear my gaze away, I fear he would distinguish every little hidden details of my soul. With my nervous forged smile in place and my eyes focus on the colorful lights on the wall behind him, I proudly deny, "I... I don't know what you mean by that." As I speak, the bile rose in my throat threatening to choke and expose my uneasy feelings, I swallow it down while keeping my eyes away from his laughing face, straightening my back and crossing my arms in front of me in stubborn denial. In my mind questions begin to form; who is he? What does he want with me? How does he know what I feel? A strange and forgotten feeling crept onto me, enveloping my entire being, leaving me nakedly expose to his piercing eyes.
He lets out a constrain breath of laughter and gaze down at my red painted cheeks. "Now, now there is no need for you to look like that. You don't need to hide your feelings with me." Casually, he takes the seat beside me on the cushion bench and stretch out his long and thick legs, flexing the muscles of his thigh making me more aware of his tall and athletic built. Our eyes met, for a brief second but I could feel a pull in my distant memory as if I have seen him before. He smile teasingly, "The name's Luca, you're Maya, Mrs. Addison's niece. We've met before but I doubt you could remember. I could sense that you're somewhat different now—" He stops at the look of my white pale face and stiff form.
The word "different" make me straighten my back in an act of aching offence. A mixed feeling of anger and pain pour down on me. It's been years since someone could affect my emotions so strongly. The scar in my heart that I thought would heal is now reopening just by hearing his simple words. Water droplets form at the corners of my eyes threatening to overflow so I turn my face away from his concern gaze but he restrain me by taking hold of my proudly pointed chin and firmly turning my bright, teary gaze to face his deep eyes and elegantly structured features. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to hurt you; it's just that you've changed a lot. Your eyes... they've always tell a great deal of stories..." he whispers in amazement. His soft, comforting fingers brush the tears dangling at the corner of my eyes and all I could do is stare into those deep blue eyes that promises to absorb all my pain from the past. For the second time in eight years, I feel deeply connected to another being. With eyes begging for a chance, he asks "Will you trust me... if I say I would do anything to remove the pain in your eyes?"
Silence stretch between us as I turn away from him. My mind wanders to a passing memory kept locked deep in the back of my mind of a boy named Luca who reached out to hold my hand when all trust and happiness was drawn out of me from losing the people I love the most. I remember that same simple, comforting words and soothing touch reaching deep into my soul where none ever has. All the fear of hurting people's feelings, being left alone, losing that tiny space inside their heart. He seizes them all away in a single glance without any explanation or complains. His concerned eyes searching my face for a sign of recognition, "Do you remember me?"
As I look upon his open and friendly face, the answer came full blown to me. There is no reason for hesitation; I remember it now that fateful day. I lay my cold hand on his outstretched palm and the tips of my lips lift creating a dazzling smile that reaches up to my dark-brown eyes. "I remember now."
His warm fingers capture my hand, adamant and unwavering, not letting go.
Poetry by syer
Read 1191 times
Written on 2009-04-20 at 18:05
Tags Trust Love Lost
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
