Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
to like someone is hard. but to like someone who turns around and tells you that I remind her of someone is difficult. I'd try everything to tell her that I'm not him, even comfort her by planting feint forehead kisses on her head and small whispers of 'don't worry because I'll worry' it became apparent to her right after I gave her my all. my love, commitment and feelings for her all in one way. I knew I wasn't going to mean a lot her in a span of a few days. her interest waving away like many others of my past. giving her space and time I realised that once I came back, with a wide smile across my face, my heart ready to pour out for her; I realise that she had found what she was missing. him. not me. him. stranded by thoughts, confusion and hurt; I ran, I didn't think she'd do any sort of doing like that. call someone else her love, her world. bawling like a child as I broke everything around me, even my memory of her and burned her clothing. the crimson flames rising to the air as I stared at the remaining pieces of her that was left with me. the last tears falling from my face as I kneeled down, small flames still present as I ignited my cigarette and began to take scanty drags; exhaling them out as I stood up. the words "it's not the end of the world, the hurt will always be loved."
