Forget his name, forget his face
Forget his kiss, his warm embrace
Forget the love that you once knew
Remember he has someone new
Forget him as they play your song
Remember how you cried all night long
Forget how close you two once were
Remember he has chosen her
Forget you memorized his walk
Forget the way he used to talk
Forget the things he used to say
Remember he has gone away
Forget his laugh, forget his grin
Forget the dimples on his chin
Forget the way he held you tight
Remember he's with her tonight
Forget the time that went so fast
Forget the love that moved, it's past
Forget he said he'd leave you never
Remember that he's gone forever
- Author Unknown
To not say those hurtful things
To not have made two hearts break
The red line cleanly cut
Words kept within
To stew and simmer
Before it's served
Perhaps it's for the best
That my mouth gets sewn
Let the blood flow
As thread and needle dance.
It's done at last
The seal is inked
Perhaps it's for the best
Isn't it for the best?
Be a jester in my court.
The good thing about friends
is not having to finish sentences.
I sat a whole summer afternoon with my friend once
on a river bank, bashing heels on the baked mud
and watching the small chunks slide into the water
and listening to them - plop plop plop.
He said, 'I like the twigs when they...you know...
like that.' I said, 'There's that branch...'
We both said, 'Mmmm'. The river flowed and flowed
and there were lots of butterflies, that afternoon.
I first thought there was a sad thing about friends
when we met twenty years later.
We both talked hundreds of sentences,
taking care to finish all we said,
and explain it all very carefully,
as if we'd been discovered in places
we should not be, and were somehow ashamed.
I understood then what the river meant by flowing.
***** *** *****
With nary a soul beside me
The coldness seeps through -
hiding under these layers ;of little use.
I can't feel.
I can't think.
Is this what dying is like?
Or is this hell?
XD I just wrote that crap up. The office is bloody empty seriously - I'm locked in technically. Work's as usual, mundane and boring with the added perks of the MD breathing down my neck (well, he did sometime around noon before he left).
But on a side note, Battle's songs > SJH.
Beneath the Tuscan sun
Another cycle has started in the summer heat
Fresh buds have opened, bursting with pride.
As I lie in this field. speckled gold
Time passes as I ponder about Life's possibilities
Beneath the Tuscan sun.
(Ok, so it's crappy. But lovely picture no? I took the picture so if you wanna use it, drop me an email or something.)
Is the bane of plenty around the world
It can strike at any moment,
And the end may never come for some
People have plenty of ways
To overcome this mental disease
From multi-tasking to drinking
Alas, nothing seems to work for me
Tis' a pity,
There is no cure
And there never will be.
Sometimes it's so easy to forget that
behind every number is a life
Another being with hopes and dreams
Aspirations as high as the sky and farther
With wishes and desires
sometimes as simple as to breathe again
A number represents
Someone with stories to tell
- lessons to be shared
Behind every number
Lies a person with a name
Whom no one will remember