I trace the memories kept behind like fingerprints.
The love we had is now crushed and swept away by a wave of  
our indolence and insanity.
I go back to the time of sadness,
Because it was the sadness of her eyes the made me
happy
happy
happy
and somewhat sane…

All I have left are the mental photographs of what happened
and of wanting what could have been. I leave now with all the
things that I traced—things that can never be erased
like fingerprints that never  
ever had changed.
I sit here alone in this disease-ridden couch, with my
disease-ridden hope. And I will memorize your eyes,
blinking to the rhythm of you heartbeat, dancing in a starlit daydream—as  
I am wishing of a memory where you gave me  
everything you had
and where I offered you the pieces that were left
of me.

I kept all memories of you in a heart-shaped box,
where it is slowly crumbling as time goes by.
I kept all your secrets,
your playbook,
your cards,
your broken cassettes and cigarettes
our now and always,
your sad eyes and the happiness you had
and which made me smile again.

So maybe fingerprints and memories share a common thing. They say  
that “good things happen to those who wait”, I’d say keep on waiting,
*******, I have been waiting, and still all I’ve traced is  
the measurements of my  
indolence and insanity. So yeah, keep on waiting.