Someone once told me that we are damned to remember the things that never really happened.
Those expensive sneakers I wanted as a boy, that motorcycle I wished I drove, that business deal I aspired to sign, that person I dreamt to share a roof with, and other thoughts were all engraved in my head like tombstones.
I walked through memory lane so many times, it became run-down like a pilgrimage passage. I was familiar with each pebble and every single piece of sand on that road. And I still walk it even if it led to the same way and even if we never crossed paths.
Those expensive sneakers I wanted as a boy, that motorcycle I wished I drove, that business deal I aspired to sign, that person I dreamt to share a roof with, and other thoughts were all engraved in my head like tombstones.
I walked through memory lane so many times, it became run-down like a pilgrimage passage. I was familiar with each pebble and every single piece of sand on that road. And I still walk it even if it led to the same way and even if we never crossed paths.
I hated her.
I hated her when she lied.
I hated her when she stopped caring.
I hated her for making me love her so hard.
I hated her when she lied.
I hated her when she stopped caring.
I hated her for making me love her so hard.
I hated myself for pinching her whenever she made fun of me.
I hated myself for getting angry at her.
I hated myself for believing she'll be mine forever.
I hated myself for wanting her so bad.
I hated myself for getting angry at her.
I hated myself for believing she'll be mine forever.
I hated myself for wanting her so bad.
I hated her and mostly I hated myself because we kept on choosing each other again and again, yet we gave up in the end.
Two girlfriends and five years later, I still love her.
And if they dusted my soul for fingerprints, hers are the only ones they'd find.
And if they dusted my soul for fingerprints, hers are the only ones they'd find.