Flower petals fly in the wind from a careless game of, 'he loves me, he loves me not.' The rain knocks them from the sky, like failure crushing dreams. The sight is almost surreal in this black and white world. The rain splatters and antagonizes the already chipped paint to flake even more. It seemed like a house of broken hearts. The girl perched in the window of this rust and creamed colored extravagant house in a modern day suburbia's true love was ripped from her, taken miles away. She has forgotten his touch, the sound of his voice, the gentle caress of his words that soothed her nerves and mind. But she remembers the only two things about him that won't let her forget. His existence and the exact way he smelled.

But that's just the way life is. We live to shine and fade away, but life shouldn't be all about death. Why live to die? Live to feel complete inside. Once your purpose is served, you're as good as gone even though your heart still beats. Once love is gone your as good as a flameless candle.

We live to shine and fade away and when our day comes,

We are extinguished.