Walls || BaekYeol

1.9

||Byun Baekhyun

1:43 am
November 27, 2014
Friday

Hey today is your birthday Chanyeol.

Happy Birthday!

Im okay, I asnwered cause I know you're gonna ask. You should answer me too because you should know Im going to ask too. Are you doing fine?

Do you remember the painting that Hyun ran on? I bet you do. I never got to show you that one. And you didn't even wait for me to show you. I painted the sky Chanyeol, I painted it because it made me feel calm. I painted it again because it made me meet someone as amazing as you. I painted it till the last detail because you were there. You were the sky above me and I had to paint you the way you are.

Im not a painter anymore, I answered again because I know you're gonna ask me that too.

And I sorry.

I couldn't promise you that.

Its hard Chanyeol.

How can you paint with no colors? How can you create such lively and beautiful painting with black and white?

I did, a last painting, using black and white colors. But on a white wall you can only see the black paint. And only us could understand the meaning of it, people wont ask, they'd skip the portrait of us.

But the walls we painted remained, and the words you inked in my arms are still there. People would see that, they'd ask about you from time to time.

I'd tell them you were funny,

I'd tell them our memories.

They seemed to enjoy the wall we painted, but they skipped the wall I painted alone, because its black, dull and colorless.

Those are the parts of our story they refused to know, those are the parts of our memories they didn't bother to understand. Because only us could.

Im still here Chanyeol, Im stuck. Im your director but I don't know too whether I should continue. I keep rewinding and pausing but never pressed play.

I love you Chanyeol, and you leaving me is like ripping my soul from within.

I love you so much that watching you bleed in my hands is haunting me.

I loved the red on our walls, but this time, I hate them, I despised them, especially if they're your red.

Promise me you'd remember me, promise me you'd resume creating those songs with the angels as your musicians.

Play me the songs you made every night before I sleep so I could at least remember the lyrics of the song I once memorized.

I love you Park Chanyeol, so so much that seeing you die right in front of my eyes is killing myself from the possible inevitable beauties we still could've made.