Maybe it's better this way.
that we won't have photographs to keep,
and we won't have no memory of us to remember before we sleep

Maybe it's better this way,
that we don't have to deal with the end of  something that we didn't started.
That we don't have to seal something
that we didn't promised.

Maybe it's better this way.

No, let me scratch the maybe out.
Yes. It's better this way."

Don't get attached to someone so easily.
Sometimes people can't be predictable.

Like one minute they'll make you believe you're in a paradise with them and everything is in magic, and then the next minute you are already all alone, swimming at a dry lake, and everything is empty. There's a huge difference between that. And you, you
owe it to yourself to know what is the difference within the two.

It's not being dramatic over things. It's a self aid from certain people, from uncertain feelings.

I wished you have told me at the beginning that we couldn't be as close as this together, so I should have left some spaces behind me anytime that I have to step back whenever you reach that moment you realize you didn't want this feeling with me any longer.  

But sadly, it is too late. Getting attached so easily has been a trap for me, and it has got to be a long struggle walking back with a scratched part of me before I got to find that way to finally get myself out.

We could have been the sand
and the sea that is inseperable,

But in reality we are the day and night,
The sunsets and the sunrises,

That is destined to end one another;
To beautifully begin, apart.

"I did love you." He said.

"I know." She whisper, as her eyes began to water. Having him just across a distance tells her there is no need to deny something that has been obvious since the beginning.

"But not as much as you love her."

Don't change me,
into something I'm not.

It's like treating yesterday
as if I never existed there,
It's like treating past like it
never shaped the person I am today

I am not an unsolved puzzle,
I am not those lights that switches;
I am a sculpture at work.
An endless fusion of hues;
A lip that holds a thousand
secretive clues

It may be a long work before I can be appreciated by many or not,
Or before I could be perfected,
be firm into my shapes,
be sultry in my mixtures.

but this I tell you, you will soon see the best part in absorbing me; above all the
colors life had splashed on me.

An endless rainbow of me.

I have words  for everyone.
I have words for the broken,
For the ones who were left behind.
For the dreamers, the wanderers,
the seekers, for the risk taker.
I have words for the ones who have been lost, have been found, have been heared, or have been just a sound.
For those that were loved,
for those who were unloved.

The missed, the unmissed.
for the feelings that still exists,
for the lips that were still unkissed.
I have words for everyone,
old and young
for everything;
Spoken or sung,
for every feeling,
relating, revealing.

Yet at  the end of the day,
After all the game,  after all the play
After all the come and go,
After all the high and low
and after all the rain, after a rainbow
I'd love to have someone who'll have few real sweet words for me, as much as I have thousands for the world itself.

Write about me once. Just once. And I, beautifully,  will write about
you forever.

We were the seasons,
and you happen to be the rain,
I happen to be the open leaf on its roots, waiting for you in vain

My umbrella's not broken,
yet I'll shut if off
To feel your moist within my skin,
having you falling so soft
To welcome you within my lips,
within my cheeks,
for I have missed you all
those lonely, summer weeks

We were the the seasons,
and you happen to be the rain,
I'll let you fall,
I'll let you wet my shirt and
leave some stain
As long as you'll let me feel you
You, and your underlying, falling pain.