Letters and me

‘’Lighting new cigarettes, pouring more drinks. It has been a beautiful fight. Still is.’‘

One lives for the other but value freedom as ever.

One built her world around the other

One can easily live without her.

One will walk through fire for the other

One will not go out of rain to get to her

"Why do I feel like it's unfair?" she thought.

She sat down at the pavement and gave it a final thought

They said It's the reality--we can't force people to feel the same amount of love we gave them.

Then she asked herself, "Are all the pain worth it?"

She just look ahead-- tears fell through her cheeks as she walks away.

If two people couldn't provide the same equal love-- then love doesn’t deserve her.

Then I found out those series of cut memories before, did exist on your world too;

I thought it was just me and my fantasy

But the silhouette of us were once real

When you said It was the same to you

And you call me up again; too late.

It was as if hours turned into minutes; minutes turned into seconds,

When those moments and feelings, all came down into silhouette

And suddenly became the kind of moving pictures that won over and breaks someone's heart

Evident yet heavy to absorb that It's all just because of a series of cut memories

Is this how we cope in this shitty world?

And here I thought one second is enough.

I remember those horrible events. I remember every single one of them. Though my mind seems to be able to cover them up a little, I remember almost everything. The emotions I have always had swallow me whole.

I remember those horrible events. I remember every single one of them. And I wonder if my mind would only let me collect every tiny piece of what happened, I would die three times worse than I always did.

I remember those horrible events. I remember every single one of them. I recall it happened a number of times; different men, some of my own blood, and one who was not.

I remember those horrible events. I remember every single one of them, yet my head still had maybes that used to hunt me down. Even after believing that it was all inevitable, it still shows up like a ghost in every nightmare I have.

I remember those horrible events. I remember every single one of them. I can't recall some parts, but the collection of emotions I feel everytime wouldn't lie. They are all somewhat clear; the fear, the pain, the anger and disgust.

Why are we here?