Running after, running after, running after the ones who never felt my way. Some thing harder than not finding your niche or where you belong, is to be forgotten for all the places you've been through. My steps, "love, faliures, and lives" will be forgotten by their concrete. There won't be any breath of souls that crossed my life after me, that's what its seems. I've always been forgotten.
How i wish that my heart could only remember those who sometime understood it, those who somewhere, sometime remembered me. But their memories are broken, and so far away. That made my orchid die. "Such a tragedy!", and i'm not coming back to life. Forget about love, forget about them... Love forgot about me before i needed to forget it.My thoughts and words will be lost into the air.My way of life was made to be forgotten. The blood of my veins, with so sad words, was tracen to be forgotten.
The last drawing it will make on the basement, will be cleaned.
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