it's a tale of a boy who always jumps into another sorrow. drink all the misery until he doesn't even know himself. living his life all alone, thinking that love will save him from himself. thinking that maybe, i could fix him. a sad truth, i never will.
ms. swift once said: "never take advice from someone who's falling apart." i mean it. you should never tell a tale to a broken soul. a writer who writes better than the mouth. the words she said, it's something that she never thought wisely. the words she inked in her poems, speak better about how she felt. hiding in fictions, living a life in her head.
i don't think i'll ever be someone's savior. i saved someone once, with a price of me losing a piece of my heart. a little hole that never heals. a hole that made a tallest wall built-up without i ever noticed. it's just there, until they slapped my face with all their feelings.
maybe i sound ignorant, but here's another sad truth.
sometimes, i don't care anymore.
and it becomes: most of the time now.
// a tale of herself
25.01.24; 02.10am
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