sometimes it is easy to be someone, than yourself.
sometimes it is easy to forget, who you really are.
sometimes, it is easier to be out of love than forgive.

sometimes i forget, the mirrors tend to break in this house.
apparently with the memory of a reflection, originally yours.
one devil's heart is surely not enough for two since mine is gone;

if i have a chance to neglect these days - i do.
i do not want to remember how it actually felt.
because no matter where i go, the pain stands.

probably, i am sorry about it.
but it takes lot of more than hundreds years to heal my heart.
either it can not be healed at all in the very very end. itself. and.
especially not by the one, who broke it in the first place even.(