I Promised Myself
I Promised Myself

Was it all over,
Before it even began?
Too tired to fear,
Maybe this is how it'll all end,

The final full stop to our story,
The last word of the last page,
So much for me to be sorry,
But we've already gone beyond that stage,

Set our history on fire,
Condemn our story into the abyss,
Too much feelings of ire,
The pain'll be over soon, I promise.

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Now playing: Anberlin - Dismantle.Repair.
via FoxyTunes
stoned @ 7:49 AM
______________________________


Predisposed, But Don't.
Predisposed, But Don't.

Predisposed to forget the good parts,
Every time we hurt each other's hearts,
Don't; please my dear try to remember,
The laughs and comforts, not just these tears,

Predisposed to trust a photograph,
To portray your sweet beautiful laugh,
Don't; I don't believe it ever will,
Your beauty is just so surreal,

Predisposed to fall to my weakness,
It hurts me that you're forced to bear witness,
Don't; please don't turn away from me,
There's so much more that we can be...


Author's note: Somehow I am much less comfortable writing my personal note in DeviantArt. Because I feel that DeviantArt is far from being personal.

It's hard to remember the good times when you're feeling bad. It's a sad fact of life. I make a point though, because I've felt how painful it is to realize later on that I've lost something so wonderful, simply because I was emotional.

I have a slideshow of her photographs running at all times on my computer. We take pictures, thinking it could portray the moment, the memory, the beauty, the smile. Can it really?

I really did not realize that I was making that mistake. That I did not give her an answer all the times that she needed one. And yes, it hurts me terribly. It hurts me because I'm hurting her without knowing it. It hurts me because it's still affecting her until now. But it hurts me simply because I hurt her, unknowingly, when all I want is to love her.

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Now playing: Envy On The Coast - Starving Your Friends
via FoxyTunes
stoned @ 4:21 AM
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Drip,
From my slit wrist,
My life.

Drip,
From my sad eyes,
My dreams.

Flow,
Gone; my life.
Shattered; my dreams.

- Kai Teoh, Seasons of September