I like to sit back and remember the good old days. The days were I was actually happy. The days when I had on a real smile with a full heart. I guess thinking isn't all that bad. But than again. It is. I always seem to shelter myself with tears>when the memory's come flying towards me. But than again. I always think myself into tears. I remember the days when everyone loved me. Now a days they wish I would be the old me. But they don't understand. The old me is far gone. The days when I was the happiest girl in town. The days when I got along with everyone. The days when I felt full. Just "The Days" is general.
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We went back to Pipers place that night. We winded up listening to music and cleaning like the maids we once were. That's why we were sisters. We shared a similar story. Even though hers was more terrifying. We still shared the same thoughts. It almost seemed like we were connected. I guess we were. Still are. Always going to be to. We were/are magnets. We attracted each other. We were total opposites but yet totally the same. But no one understood that. And that's what hurt the most.
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A Broken Heart With a Fake Smile
ContoSometimes having a fake smile with a broken hear can be deadly other times its enjoying. {A story about myself in a different names point of view}
