Another Rose

I was helpless on that time, it was someone else's doing, but what she saw was my face, the injury was too deep, couldn't do much, and at the end everything I see became yellowish, it was painful. The injury was internal, all I can do was comfort her. In the end. She said goodbye just like the rest, a goodbye I can't stop. 

Truth

 I was about to run some garbage, suddenly I remembered how did I let go, it is unfair to paint over that memory. the world is changing, memories are fading, still some people are trying to bring changes to that memory, and I'm throwing daggers over nothing, an illusion, the dagger don't exist after a while and I have no basis for what I'm saying, the memories are locked inside some unknown neurons that I refuse to open up.

Relief

 One day, I will walk against the wind, fading and looking for relief, I will jump into myself. In a lonely place where everything melts I will flow like a river remembering Meanders and all the childhood memories.

We strike.

 Sometimes I wish what if we could erase one song from my memory, and listen as I'm listening for the first time. Now, I don't know where it all gone, that freshness and those hormones which helped me see her is missing in me, and then Life happened and I'm looking at the clouds above, seeing something wonderfully alive.

Friend.

 One day, I will see myself in a way I never expected to see and walk the memories and remember that year with tears and look at me one more time and tell myself it was not your fault. The question would have come anyways What Now? But, sure not this soon. Then I would open that photo album, and look my perfect self and remember the life which I lost, then slowly I will move to those steps where I spent most of my time and will look deep into those two trees with my feline friend. I know she will be there. We both used to look far beyond those trees. 

Long breath.

 I'm in my thirties, but I still feel I'm 16, I can see everyone ending their life getting married or beginning. Whatever it is I still feel like there is something more to life like walking alone with both hands in the pocket, taking deep breaths, dreaming and looking straight till we find a curve to find the unknown.

An Old Song.

Where did she go? Would I ever find her again? My eyes will search for every time, but world is too crowded, maybe someday she will find me, because I can go anywhere but where?