I can't count no more days to finally realize it was just a masterpiece made out of parts of my pieces connected with my scars.

I couldn't stop the tears with all those sweet but dull thoughts and choosing to treasure wonderful memories with one push of failure ahead.

Secretly synchronizing the real meaning of happiness with what we thought was right to make us happy. Step by step along the flowery path, slowly killing them, falling petals along the sidewalk.

I could ask why.

I couldn't remember why.

It was as though I'd then realized I was slowly drifting away from my own world. Couldn't have been so miserable to feel alone for a while, but it wasn't as though I was lonely. I've never considered myself to be lonely when in fact I was alone, but I wasn't lonely. I'm wasting seconds every time I wish for something to happen that wouldn't happen.

Where did my source of love go?

Have I lost my count?

Would you tolerate how I am breaking myself?

My pieces were gone for a long time. It was not about my pride nor my image; it was a battle between me and my subconscious.

12.01.18