Letting go.
How hard is it? It’s just not that you don’t want to let go, hands are wide opened, but it just stuck in the heart.
It’s so beautiful, which comes with the pain, how can we be so devastated yet feeling so completed?
I know it’s not mine, so as I said it would not be in the beginning. I remember the breeze touching my face, so were your hands.
Where is the hero in my sky if you are not him?
Or I’m just a collector, but this piece of collection is just makes me feel so much, I can’t let go, because it’s just too beautiful.
I can’t. I can put it somewhere in my heart.
No matter how bizarre it is, it’s still touches me, it’s just that I choose not to feel it.
It was real as you told, baby, wasn’t it?
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