Maybe sometimes there's a
reason why chance reconnects us with people from our past.

Maybe it's to ask the unasked,
Answer the unanswered.
Tell the untold,
Or close the unclose.

Yet maybe it's also another way of telling people to re-open things that should have been opened years ago, and feel things that should have been felt a long time ago, all leads to the 'should have's.

I do believe that happy endings
somehow do exists.
And so does second chances.

Maybe she doesn't want you to keep on hoping because she knows too
well how painful hoping is.

Maybe she doesn't want you to wait for her because she knows how tormenting
waiting could be.

Maybe she doesn't want you to be not okay, because she knows very well
how does it feel to be not okay.

And maybe, just maybe--she wants you to love her too, somehow,
somewhere back there;
but not in the way you wanted to.

It's her eyes.
It's her eyes that enchants me the most.

They were as cold as the snow in winter, yet they were as warm as the heat that sweetly embraces my cheeks on summer.

Yes, it's her eyes.
It's her eyes that hurts me the most.

Let's make a fool out of
our ourselves today.

Tell me you love me, and I'll do the same.
Tell me I've been in your dreams,
and I'll worship your name
Tell me we'll be something,
and I'll start the flame
Tell me our love's going to be a mess,
and I'll take the blame.

Just tell me this things,
and forget them tomorrow
Just let me remember this things,
Even if their lies brings me sorrow.

And even if you won't do them to me,
then I will; to you.

For long ago I did. I have.
I will.

I'll always will.

We could be.

We could be more than this.
We could be more than the
labels tells us to be
We could be more than where
the distance let us be

You could be more than
who or what you are now,
And I could be more than
the person I am today

Yet in any second we could
be less than friends
Or less than strangers.
We could be anything, we could be any less, we could be many more

But I'm not going to choose that, or anything like that.

I'm going to choose you.
Over and over again.
Because having you, above all that change; is having and being all the things, that I could possibly be.

Fame, is just a status.

Like new weave dress, every girl wants it.
Like a brooding new car, boys crave for it.
Like the lipstick girls wear, it shines.
Like the jacket guys wear, it looks good.

It surrounds her, sometimes, change the way her mind run.
It embrace her, like a black silk too tight around her that she cannot now see and remember her own skin.

But like all the colors in a painting of rainbow dripped in thick water, it will fade.

And suddenly she will see, through that mirror, with her own blinded eyes, her old self where they roots from.
And now she will see, how change had taken her into realizing that all she have now is not the person they all want her to be,

But who she actually is.

I am so broken, you'll end up being hurt trying to put me back,

I am so faded, you'll lose your colors trying to paint me up

I am so closed,  you'll forget to open yourself up trying to do the same with me
I am so cold, that you'll lose your wamth trying to bring the summer into my winter soul

My eyes were so sad, you'll forget to spark yours up trying to make them look happy.

I am so quiet, that you won't hear the words written in my lips that tells you I love you

I am so many things, that you won't see I am trying to reach  you

And that I want you to fall in love with yourself first before falling in love with me, and my many things.