You are so terribly corrupted by the tragedy that lingers in your blood.
So terribly crumbled by the silhouettes in the night, how the shadows that dance reminds you so much of his.
You find yourself shrivelled by the world, haunted by your thoughts.
Yet my love, through your sorrows and woes,
I beg of you, do not forget.

Remember how he looked at you that day,
How you knew that you would hide that look on the tips of your eyelids for years.

Remember when he held your hand, when you saw the beauty in the world and with knees trembling, you knew.

Remember the thunderbolts that rioted in your soul when he traced your skin for the first time, when you were so electric and so terrified you could barely stand it.

Remember his mumbled midnight dreams and how he was so grateful that you were the last thing he saw, remember that those twists and turns that were, at one point, the most important thing in the universe.

Remember him, finding you, when you had encaged yourself in a silent room, full of so many things, that were beginning to drown you.
Remember how he was there.

Remember in your drunken haze, when you held his hand and led him through the streets. Remember when he held you, when he made you feel alright.

Remember when he followed you to the door, and how you felt when he held your wrists to stop you from leaving. Remember that.

Remember when you thought that it was simply so astounding, to have found him at all.

Remember that things are sometimes good and sometimes bad and most importantly, that anything worth having known in this world requires without doubt, an equal and brilliant mix of both.  

Remember that you were happy once and please don't be ashamed of that.

And above all, remember who you used to be.
-



*"Beg yourself, my love, beg yourself,
To not forget who was knocking on your door.
In the rain, on Saint Patricks day."