I stare at the clouds, and the quiet fury of rain. I stand under this pouring sky, under the grieving clouds, and it feels so cold here. Like the breezes in the west coast of england, seeping into each part of my flesh. I flick open a book, it read, "Remember love, it is more important than remembering somebody's name." Tonight, I discovered that this is what I have achieved.
Non-departure
Not to meet again
Is not the same as to fall apart
Not to talk again
Does not mean I will forget
Just because
The sorrow of yours has immersed into mine
Like moonlight merging into the mountain
Whenever the night, is
Cool like cold water, it'll touch the
Pain from my old days
posted by betty chan at 10:07 PM
i used to be a ballerina when i was 7. wearing those pink satin dancing shoes every week. i loved those long ribbons. one day i had to make a decision, and i decided i was not going to dance again. i decided i wasn't going to be a ballerina, but someone else... would you wanna know what I have become??
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