Saturday, August 19, 2017 @ 5:30 PM
Been almost half a year.
Still poking on that scar that could heal well.
Moving on is supposed to be an option.
Somehow I'm still right here, trapped in the past.
Still fussing on the old little stuffs.
Still lingering on that warmth which had turned cold ages ago.
Self preservation is an instinct, but I'm self-deteriorating. Crave for someone's to be there for me, yearn for just moments of companionship. And then, I stopped wanting those.
Yours Truly; Lorenzo
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