When memories of you comes crippling…
I’d try my best to block it out.
Block block block block.
A defense mechanism to stop from swimming in the puddle of depression (who would have thought you could drown in a puddle?)
You were…and you became a fountain of happiness.
Beautiful, almost free from impurity but nobody’s perfect, you had your own set of flaws.
I guess it’s always just the same…the attraction comes from the eccentric charm, sincerity, and eloquency of words. The substance…
Beautiful…you were beautiful in that element. That very statement: The tamed passion.
What is beauty?
I came to know/realize throughout the years, beauty can’t be measures by just a beautiful face nor by physical features alone. But by the beauty of the heart
My eyes can see.
My heart can remember.
I won’t forget.
(to be continued)
It's where it ALL COLLIDES 