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Thursday, June 28, 2007

If I really have to clean that wet shirt, wet by tears and torn by cries, you will be the first one to thank. You were blinded by lies , and feigned harsh ignorance on me. Made my nights sleepless and somehow my life meaningless. Still thinking , what made you believe that shallow lie? Still asking , why didn't you believe the obviously truth? I took the mess into my account, submitted them as my guilt, what hurt was the pain you budded in me by taking another step on the sloping step. Ah, close my eyes and bringing everything to that conversation is a thrill. A big step to be responsible for. Thinking about it, really accused and helpless. That awful situation I developed to , nothing spoke my thoughts , and even if I did, nothing made them concrete. I can't blame you, infatuation makes everything right and anything out of it - condemned ; even if you clearly knew that your infatuation is the clown, not me.





Things are nice now, not to deny. Glad for you, thousands of heart-felts poured out. I'm , still looking for someone worth of my cries. No doubts at times reminiscing , but I've never deemed them sinful. I have memory, and I keep what I feel is nice. It's a shame sometimes though, for fcuking taking up something I've never done and letting that person enjoy his efforts with his lie. I'm scrubbing that damp shirt, so long but still so fond even if it was wet with tears caused by you.

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Since you left me dead laid here ;
[11:32 PM]