Yawn
Yawn ㅡ SEVENTEEN reference
People yawn when they experience a lack of oxygen, people feel the pain when there is an absence of the reason they breathe in.
Above the passing moon, below the shooting stars. I wonder if the stars ever long for the moon to catch up or if the stars just want to come when the moon doesn’t show up. But I heard something about the air somehow grows so distant recently. It turns so cold when I opened the window to expect the opportune. Now I’m only covered in my blue cardigan which I very adore. Since I know there is no one would let me be in their embrace no more. I have to figure it out on my own unlike before. It will getting colder at the front door. No one comes, no one leaves. Just an empty house, just an empty me.
The emptiness of my heart without you is like a hole of pain. A pain that has pierced through me under the rain. It cut me open by a broken glass of champagne, but the blood droplets has nothing to explain. Far compared to the level of incandescent devotion which never disappears. And the day I never wanted to come has arrived, the day when everything is constantly suffocating.
My anxious footsteps laid on a shattered heart which got scattered across the room, and it’s suffocating enough. Barely breathing, merely thinking about the hope of hopes: hoping your head doesn’t ache so much more after you finished your things, hoping the back pain your chair caused never visits, hoping no more traffic jams exist on your way, hoping the wind is clear when you are outside, hoping you receive a hug when you don’t feel like yourself, hoping you are loved on every step you take, hoping you don’t hate yourself try to risk something.
You know it was a good choice. You also must have felt an unbearable pain that you couldn’t even whisper. You were suffering alone. Your castle’s crumbling in the silent war you never wanted. And it’s aching me. There is no way I wouldn’t know, because you are my breath itself, the reason I have lived for. Don’t be sorry, because it’s just like a yawn that comes from a lack of oxygen, from not being enough.
Either a lack of menu for the dinner I served for you, or too much coffee I poured on the breakfast that left you no clue. In the other side I know this me would turn you blue. Thus my wish to keep my distance so you would be free will come true. I believe we are capable to keep trying to get a better view, seeing that our paths have seperated and buried by the issue.
Because at the end of the night, we need to let go the stars for the sun to rise through.
