Here's a story of a hopeful little girl with big hazel eyes and big dreams about the world and now she's grown up.

You go like,
"Don't share too much." but
She go like,
"Sometimes, it's not okay to
not share the tears that fall at 2 am,
staying up all night,
thinking about the person who once shared everything with.
Or the malicious thoughts that run through your head
every time you close your eyes,
just lying steady in your bed."
And then you go, again,
"but still it's you who get hurt through the process, don't you care about others like me?"
She go like,
"No, I'd crumbling away like a sandcastle but it doesn't mean that the castle never been on the sand, does it?"

After 7 years, she still thought of the day but regret not to be fully honest with the boy cause today one year ago was the day he committed.

You meant "us" but "in love", oh.

I shot myself with broken minds.

You could've stopped me from crookedness.

I sent condolences
to the future I'll never fortunate
to have
and I wished it good luck
for the doors that had opened up.
It didn't matter how it all begun 'cause,

The little lie became one in chucks, it robbed my nature and
kept whispering me that I had to make something
to amend myself somehow
but
I, who lost its soul so long that I couldn't looked up the stars in the sky and
told them to push the real pain away from the darkest corner of my mind.
On the ledge, I started laughing
until it numbed my jaws and made me look alike a frowned crown.
I was 'it'.

As I lit up my cigarette I thought
of that uncertainty life gives us so that the art of living wouldn't be dull
but
I know it is just only waning, waning away and nothing else.

Am I reaching end of tether?
Am I getting warmer?

nothing is more heart-wrenching than me-without-you.

Being alone is the most scariest thing cause she is,
She's lost with her mind.
Her heart was a secret chamber in a church
and the walls were very high.

She painted her face in colours and learnt
that no matter how much she care,
some people just don't care back at all.

She acts like summer and walks like rain.
Her scars are stories, history written on the body
and her tears will drown her more than any water ever will.

What. A. Shame. None of you became

such fragile broken things.