wont

cry without whining,

his sighs would be hurtful.

a pacifist.

your misery will not change the priorities,

he will.

he goes ahead,

he has an exceptional memory,

"bad luck"

then forgets

"love you the world"s

his owns.

i wont stay for aftermath,

it will be told as if i did.

fascinated,

how the fakest, clearest façade

prevails.

"is it all that bad?"

not- it is all me

on you.

on me.

the sympathy

in my friends' gazes, on me.

wait just until you are cleansed

from its meaning

in the course of warmer summers

discomfort is eliminated

you find a disgust in all

is this how he had seen things

not so sacred for you, now.

until i convince

"i am capable of hearts"

your fists