Thursday, January 29, 2015


*Play this before reading to feel the words*

You're in this mood where everything just easily makes you cry.
You're so fragile that even a happy moment will make you sob.
You want to read your favorite book but too afraid it will put more salt on open wounds.
You want to listen to songs but they remind you of things.
Things that aren't necessarily sad; they're just memories.
Memories you keep thinking about every second of the day,
memories you can't fathom to forget,
memories that have become a part of your being,
you can't cut out a hand because it isn't used as much, right?
You begin to do things you hate which again makes you cry
you begin to sniff his old ragged shirts which you hated,
his favorite cologne that you despised,
eat cheesecake that made you sick,
put mayonnaise on fries which never made sense,
drink although you know the horrible hangover you get afterwards,
stay up late when you have work next morning,
going to work looking like an absolute shit,
touching that one spot on the back of your hand that he kept rubbing until it went sore,
wearing the dress you wore on the day you two met,
smoking when you're allergic to cigarettes,
drinking ice-tea when you're an iced-coffee person,
crying because you can't help it,
crying because it's the only thing you're capable of doing.
You wish you can forget all these memories but you can't,
no matter how much you wanted, no matter how much you tried, no matter how much you planed on forgetting,
they'll always remain a part of your being.
But memories will remain memories because he's not here anymore,
and you're not the same,
because that's life. 

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