loving you is like whacking mosquito

not a usual mosquito

a particular one which still flies around and around when the others are already dead and swept out of my room

 

i chase the mosquito to the right of the room, it turns to the left

i jump up almost to touch the ceiling, it nosedives like making a landing

when i’m focusing on grasping the mosquito, it’s away to somewhere out of even Google Map

when i’m resting almost like i want to give up, it approaches me like teasing and mocking

 

that’s why i say

loving you is like whacking mosquito

i don’t know you are playing hard to get, or simply just busy doing something else

i don’t know if it’s me who’s not trying enough, or you’re that passing through too fast

 

loving you is like whacking mosquito

feeling desperate

curious

exhausted

despair

nevertheless…

i’m looking forward to it

how i finally feel when i got the mosquito in my bare hands

would i feel happy?

or

would i feel sorry?

 

-aga-

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