Teenage Dreams

I remember it hurt seeing her hurt. She was hurt, she was bleeding with fears, insecurities filled her heart and tears were the form that it could escape out of her body. She didn't tell me anything but yet i understood, i understand everything. She can mute down her volume but the fears that her eyes display and the words that her body speaks says everything. It hurt and it hurt more when the i couldn't help her. She was there but yet there was nothing i could do. She was dying but she's trying to show that she was living up to her fullest.. but she was. Was it a move to make ne jealous or an attemp to live those last few moments she would be spending in this country in the way she likes but i could see her having the spark for other guys. What spark i had for her,she can't see as thr brightness of my spark is so much that her eyes are forced to change directions without realising what were those lights potrating.. She could've made two lives better but she chose ...

And there she stayed sipping coffee out of her cup and potrating his helpless face. She was silent. She had finished her story and left him stabbed with a broken heart and leaving him wounded with the pieces of information she conveyed. He couldn't touch his cup. A thick layer of fat was getting over the cup with the decreasing temperature both in the cup and heart of a betrayed( that's what he felt) a guy who was not sensible enough to understand life, what it was or what it conveyed. hours passed and harldy there was any talk. He didn't touch his cup while she stayed there finishing her story and cup both being at the same time. she was moving apart from him, far apart what she presented was a compulsion, his view of it was a choice. But seeing far and apart  seemed good for her future, she was going to live up to her dreams and potentials, (at least he could sit there saying that,) it felt good to think it that way. He was sitting there like an idiot not realising when s...