yellowing pages

Me

We are all so frantic about going to where we should be heading that we forget how to truly live. Be human, not a zombie.

Maybe I knew I did not deserve to be touched by thy fingers and letters.

But now, I beg you My dear, give me Give me your love And all of me will be cured, I promise.

Him

People ask me about you and the weak self in me, runs away at an inkling and hide. I do not know what makes me think it's okay for me not to talk to you because sometimes I don't even care yet I do. I care that I do not have the strength to talk to you and tell you what I have been doing for the past months but I just can't.

Books let me enjoy the illusion of good life, people and true love. I gave up looking for these in the real world.

My dreams consisted of you walking away from me step by step and they send me full of tears the next day But you, like those drops I wept, I can never get you back

If you knew beforehand that this would happen, would you have talked to me like the first time?

I see her everyday. In mirrors, in puddles or in windows, I get a glimpse at her. Yet even now, I cannot describe in her great detail.

Somehow, we met but time always, always set us apart. We were so close yet so far.

They are survivors, Nobody knows their struggle- Our struggle.