I scream
I flip the table
I cut my hair
I cry
None of it heard by you. None of it matters to you. None of it makes you come back. None of it make "us" be "us" anymore.
YOU ARE READING
P O V
Aléatoire"Age is just number right?" he asked. "Perhaps" "You seems not agree. Why so?" again. "It might be number. By that, i mean the age itself. The memories on it, well... it last"
