i re-read all the poems i wrote months ago when everything was still okay. i wasn't sad, but my poems were. it's funny to think, how i could always find that little peek hole of darkness even though i was surrounded by lights. you were there with me and it was only a two-days fight, but my words formed a sentence of how we were already strangers. maybe i like to exaggerate things. or maybe we've always been strangers from the start because if not, how could you look away every time i try to say hi? people don't just turn into strangers. we were all made by the same stardust and some of us were destined to meet. or maybe we weren't. i don't know; i wouldn't know. up to this day i still think we are each other's even though we are not anymore and i guess that explains a lot about me, and you, and us. us contains of you and i. we are contained of each other. you still keep my heart in your pocket, and i'll always be the first girl you've ever really loved.