There's a kind of hush,
all over the world.

Memories last a lifetime. The memories of our happy days have been tarnished, like a broken photograph. You gave me a present, a frame, remember? I've printed a photograph of you and me using my printer. It's beside my bed, and I look at it before I sleep, every night, without fail. Now, I feel like taking it out and throwing it into the bin. Not because I hate you, not because I dislike you, but because I don't want to feel the hurt every time your smile and my hand over your shoulder grins back at me, haunting my dreams.

I think there are endless apologies for me to say. At this point of time, I think Thank You would be the best. Thank you, for letting me realise that you hated me. Thank you, for letting me know what you think of me.

Thank you, for giving me a chance to stop acting like a fool by smiling at you, laughing with you, and leaving tags on your blog. Thank you, for erasing all memories I have of you, for the unhappy ones have replaced the good ones, and left it even.

The hush settled, disputes broken,
by the post that left all triumphant,
but one shattered.

comment? / top