Artificial Hope

That warm Saturday morning when I saw you being basked by the mid summer sun ray — you were barefooted, in your wide neck tank top and a floral board short, your hair was golden, glistened by the unforgiving bright sunlight — I knew that my artificial dream had almost came true.

Except that you never knew who I was, you never knew that I was seeing my dream materialized like riding on a ferris wheel — circling the horizon, up and down, the feel of being on top of the world, the soft silky gush of breeze that touched your face  — gazing from afar.

You wouldn’t know. Because I didn't have balls to tell you that I wanted you. Not that I had balls in the first place (literally!), but if I did, I would. Because my jaw locked up like a constantly-smiling clown at a cheap fun fair.

And now you’re gone.
With that girl.
Who stole my dream.
On the mid summer morning.

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"I Miss You"
Zubaidah Arshad
25 July 2017
1225 hrs
Dubai
United Arab Emirates

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