Wednesday, April 14, 2010

The day it rained.

And there are moments when she feels like tearing up every single piece of poetry she had ever written, like breaking every little promise she'd made, like venturing into those four walls to find the God that hides within, like erasing every little memory she's preserved for as long as possible, like deleting those pillars she'd find strength within, and like simply letting those teardrops roll down her cheeks.

Because she never realised that she was crying after decades of promises not to cry.
Because she never realised that what she could do in those moments were reversible.

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