Life and I have always had a war raging amidst us. We never were friends, though we smiled, embraced, chased eachother for a company. But, we never were enemies either though we complained a lot about eachother.
But there was something. Something so awfully exciting about life that made me love her. But not all that glitters is gold, as the saying goes. It had bruises which brushed my skin to turn it into scars. It had a murky voice which couldn't sing along with me. It teared me apart when all I had gotten a chance to feel happy for awhile. And it, somehow, loved death.
When I was little, I saw her fleeting in the air of innocence. I found her in the mud art we made, in the calmness after the rain, on that tree swing we swung together.. And in the ounce. Goddamn ounce of time, I saw her turning into a demon, I thought never existed in reality.
And now, all we do is push eachother apart. I raise, she pulls me down. I raise again and smirk at it, making her realise that she doesn't control me. I fall for a heart, she churns it. She makes me twist and turn and snatches my sleep. We know we need to glue every piece together since no one else would do it for us. But alas, we got our own egos sitting on the thrones of destruction.
Life and I have a relation which sounds a lot like love. Sadly beautiful. We hold onto eachother, we do take care. Sometimes, we fight and yet we ache. Other times, we smile but our sad eyes cry saying it can't be same again. And in the end, when the clouds are grey and the wind stops to groove, I lay down beside my life, while we weep, how in the world something could turn so miserable yet it's worth every pain to save it. It's worth everything to love it even though, sometimes it's hard for her to love me back.