Not a dreamer, but dreams of many, where she remain preplexed, deviated and furthermore, destroyed.
Like reality, she prevails when treated as someone's only ambition of life.

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And it is happening again. I bet you must be finding me among stars , or finding our lost "start"among every thing beautiful twinkling around me and you. I felt alone "again". I sat alone, "again". My pen was scribbling, "again". The tored down papers are assembled, "again". observing the waxing and wanning moon, "again". Counterpass every night of this month, "again". I wonder if "again" is our future, would this be okey to do it all "again"?

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They come from the same city to rejoin in the city unknown. Is this what unknown place to live for?

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Peeling off the past spent with you, from each layer of my skin. It still hurts. I still shed tears out of my dead happiness.

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There is a lot more amid " i don't love you" and " i cannot love you".
I keep tossing among them.

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I was doing fine behind your screen.

"i was being sad while i was happy".
" i was being nonchalant , when my heart was crumbling".
I was happy that you knew that i am sad.
My heart crumbled while i noticed myself once again.

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I used to be like this, long back ago. Now looking at myself, I ponder upon those aspects of life. Compare, how similar they were, but at present, guess I am not hurt anymore.
" More I float in my past, the more I feel quite adjustable and still not comfortable with my present".

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My eyes are waiting to cry but my tears just inhabitated the fact that you are worthless to fall upon.

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‌Unlike today, I have seen myself at a place where "myself" found enough in any circumstances. I have had too much of lively times moving across the villages on the way by railways . Several october trees passed folded beneath mist of new year's january. I found my life story, how they passed with this pace and moreover a dried past barely remained noticed. As my eyes were finding a way through the cold mist.
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