Graff.iti
Hush. . .

MemoryIt is something Can't be seen Can't be felt Yet, it can be something A memory perhaps? Which though, it can be experienced. why? Is it a must to experience it? Is it a must to feel it? To suffer from it? To have a deep emotional wound from it? Such a memory Trespassing into my territory And what's more Love...there are no more My heart is sore My eyes bleeding tears to the core Like waves lapping on the shores In an unmistakable beauty of chords The memory.. Is beautiful Is sweet Yet, it is tragic It has toMemory


LovingI don't think we should mock what it was like to love at fifteen. I think that if we could all love in that way (perpetually and honestly and with so much passion that we could feel ourselves ready to burst with it) then this place would be so much happier. We'd be more fulfilled and so sure, so positive- this is the one. This is the one to complete me. And we wouldn't worry about details or the future or heartbreaks to come: just the time that is now. A time that is perpetually Summer and brimming with nostalgia. Loving at fifteen is loving young and loving "forever", and it's something I regret we grow out of.Loving