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Okay.
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but everything has changed. People. change.
there's a secret pain in everyone. A thorn you can't touch, a cut that can't heal. Pain so well-hidden within the folds of your heart (where else to place it but at the core of life. After all, the least likely place is the most likely place, such is life's paradox).
Once in a while, often enough, the pain springs up on you. or it seeps up so you can neither predict nor prepare for its arrival. The best you can do is bear it. And it will go away.
Or send an SOS to God to people to your mum. And hope they respond cos sometimes you feel you can't bear it alone. Not this time at least.
It's a secret pain, so secret sometimes you feel it isn't there.
how can i ask you to go. when you were so dam beautiful.
sentiments for the foolishly hopeful, or the hopefully foolish, whichever means more. When it becomes an asphyxiation, monumental emotion, the royal heartache-
write down a basket of words to cope, preferably trade weighted, or inflation adjusted. if you please.
Just so it feels real.
