Melancholy And The Past

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I suppose sadness really has no end. And life is an eternal circle of sufferings and heartaches and pain, that there's no beginning nor end.




One moment, you were fourteen, having the first dance of your life at a Christmas party, you were at the head of the buffet table with your best friend stuffing your mouths with some horrible veggie salad.



You were sitting on a stone bench under the shade of a mango tree at school, reading your favourite book and listening to Charlie Puth's We don't talk anymore. And then suddenly, you are 19.




Suddenly, your best friend is no longer your best friend, that you're finally a 'grown up' mess with a baggage of anxiety trailing her from behind.



Suddenly, you became this kinda sad girl who writes this kinda sad poems.

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