Every bridge will crumble. Every fortress will fall. Happiness, the fleeting illusion, will not be found. Have you ever glimpsed death in butterflies and absured wishes?
The curve that threatens my lips, the joyous sound bubbling in my chest, but I shall not allow it. The smiles I give are fake. The laughs, cries in disguise. My eyes give me away, though no one seems to notice.
There was a "He" and possibly a "She", but never a "We". "He" was there. "She" was not. Told by her family, "She" too independent and "She" would never be happy. End. Of. Story. But "She" tries.Fake smiles and empty words, sad eyes and a drowned heart. "She" places trust in few, if any. "She" might be broken, but still "She" lives, until "She" becomes "I", and "I" becomes "Forgotten".
