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Artchelle Arcillas usually indulges herself through reading various kind of relationship poetry. She's also a contributor to a publication.


Maybe that's just how love struck. It pricks your locked heart open for a knock, out of curiosity you opened and just let it in.

Perhaps, it's really like that... when it has gotten your heart for so long. The intruder then slowly getting tired, got use to your being that all the blemishes and flaws became visible to both eyes... things then no longer seems the same.

Maybe that's how love withdrew, the intruder encounters a new heart to knock, and one that is new to its feeling and emotion. The cackles and spent spare times feel like a never-ending adventure---a new world and perhaps, a new beginning.

The heart that was once locked, whom he opened, trespassed and ruined by a knock was left hanging, ghosted by the distant approach.

It was pleading in silence, pleaded for the intruder to come stay within its warmth, screaming the intruder's name only to hear nothing back. One day it has return, greeting the heart with caress and pecks between its walls yet that's just it... the heart has felt nothing but acts, acts without amour or anticipation. The intruder stayed...and stayed for a very long time holding a touch and go emotions. The heart that once locked held it even better enduring the wounds, bleeding cuts from countless of careless embrace and pecks from its sharp-mouth.

Maybe that's just how love struck, it cuts you open only to wait for the criminal's tending, be healed only to start over with the one who has killed you again and again.

© 2019 Artchelle Arcillas

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