In sequence lights, the memory
Those same scenes that always made her smile
We all made stupid things we didn’t realize
They leave us hollow somewhere inside
And broken heart follows
She knows how not to get broken actually
All she has to do is to let things take her to its spin
Be elastic. It’s written. There is history. Always works.
But this time
What’s to be sure?
The untangled seem innocent?
Not really she said.
She wished she’s innocence
Or otherwise.
In between as always.
The love, the hate, the good, the bad.
It’s her only virtue.
