it is never a usual thing. i do not think about it a lot. my mind finds out how to occupy me, distract me from certain things and stuff.. people.
but there are some nights where my imagination lingers. i take a one way to a hall of memories and it seems like i will never come back from it. like my mind is trying to retreat but my feet continue to walk forward as my eyes are plastered to every memory framed like hanging paintings on the walls.
there are times in those nights, where i can still taste your lips from mine. where i can still feel your breath landing on my cheeks. some nights i want that back. i daydream fantasies of a world i can no longer reach, one where i was creating memories, and not thinking of them. and some nights, those things do not cross my mind at all.
memories make and break me. for the fact of how memories hold onto something special, the memory will never change, even if the person with them does.
so i do not know whether to call you my friend or a memory.
it seems you will be one of them here soon at this speed we will eventually crash at.
_____
happens..
-belle </3
YOU ARE READING
one day i began to think
General FictionAlright, so this was formally known as lazy reads. It's no longer that. I do put short stories on here occasionally. OCCASIONALLY. But recently it's been a nice little public journal that really no one reads. What I publish is supposed to be someth...
