She speaks

never mine to keep

we're always having dumb conversations till passed midnight with snacks barely cooked nor scorched. i often make jokes and you're too quick-witted to it that even those old chestnut one's, nor what's been stated from an outburst genuine affection became an extra hilarious stupidity for you.

every time you aren't sober, your fingers entwined with mine still feel surreal. and i can hear my heart speaks audibly than my mouth does, then you call her name, again. with pain engulfed within my comforting beam and your tears glistening in your cheeks, as if you're begging to not let you go through more hellish night, once more i engaged myself in a vulnerable state of affair. i could never set free of these shivering hands tightly gripped on mine nor alter my gaze away from yours, 'cause i know that when this juncture ends another morning will come that only your feigned bubbly smile with empty stares i'll get to see. i'm a halfwit lover who delusions of you being head over heels towards me whenever we're together; ignoring the fact that i'm no more than just a friend that backs you up when you're in need of someone who'll listen; a person to vent out all your piled up emotions for the woman who can't love you back, with ways we both can take pleasure momentarily, but only i suffer for the aftermath.

you're near enough that i can easily lock eyes with you; enfold my arms around yours, listen to your soothing voice and smell your manly scent, yet your heart seems to be a thousand miles away from mine. i can wear your sweater, i've kept all that you'd given, but your love is the only thing i could never count among my possession. you, who happened to be my utmost desire, became my greatest loss without even having.