i am but a dust-gathering golden statue on the bookcase of your life.

i am the prize you wanted for so long because nobody else has.

the chase was exhilirating but i definitely slowed down and you caught up.

until you won.

the first days of victory, you just stared at stared at me. took me off the shelf and polished me once in a while, then stared at me again. you could not believe you've won.

then you're now off to your next conquest. and now i gather dust.

you've always thought you've won me.

but while you bask in the golden light of victory, with your confident grin that won me over, you did not know that you are also a golden statue on the bookcase of my life.

one of them dust-gathering golden statues.

it is a stalemate.

because after all, nobody wins a game that is about breaking hearts and running off with some of its pieces.

and the person who's left behind has nothing to do but look at what's left of something that shall never be fully whole again.



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disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. lisod na... hahaha. maybe i've read too much joyce carol oates and listened to a lot of fiona apple mp3s, thus the piece.