The days we started were footprints
of the ways we parted; they were silent screams
in tranquility, but often with a big, noise blast after.
We laughed in summer, cried in winter;
sat on the train together like naive kids.
You'd stay till dusk, I'd never leave-
but people change, even if feelings don't.
The love you gave was real, I knew,
and for a fact that I trusted, I must have
really loved you as well.

On a summer's day, when it was raining;
I sat on the bus just hearing news from you,
and it felt warm. It was warmth from friendship that
in the past I never had. My smiles, my laughter:
they're all what you had given.

I know that I'm sorry, I know I've done wrong,
"but it was never my fault," I lied on my lips.
I knew I was unfair to you. The love you gave
and the time you spent just couldn't be replaced.
They remain untouched like the memories so long ago.

But it hurts to be with you,
it makes me feel cold and insecure:
even though you gave me warmth,
you too can rain down on me like winter in my heart.
I'm reminded of the past I've not walked,
the mistakes I've faulted, and the ways I've been.
With you, I can never be myself;
so with you, I shall part.

I'm sorry to have wounded you so deep,
but the reasons for doing so weren't any of:
you've changed, or you being unfair.
It's not, yet even the true reason is scarily selfish and stupid.
Hatred is mean, it's concrete and steel:
just turn those memories into a blank unused page
and melt flowers into vapour.

Forgetting someone is easy, easy,
easier said than done. For you who had
spent bad and good times with me:
It's not easy, it's not possible,
yeah I know.
You'll still resurface in my head,
the same voice and smile, and I
can't go on talking about this anymore;
if this is the end, then let it end.
Let all doors close and all memories be sealed,
all the places forgotten and I'll start anew.

I find myself wondering why my face is soaked wet.