Every single time I find my keys on my way home, I will sigh a heave of relieve knowing I am here.
But I am not safe. This place is more than evil.
Everytime I go past the temple under the clouds in the night, I listen to your screams to make me feel better.
But I am not safe. This place is ghostly.
Everytime I turn to look behind me, all I see is the empty street with yellow lights taking over the atmosphere.
I am not safe. And you're not here. You don't know I'm here. Maybe you do. Else I am just trying to make myself feel better.
Every single time I lose my hairclip when I am about to do my make up, I'll bun up my hair and it reminds me of you.
But this is pathetic. I'll get on with it.
Every time I freak out when something white flies across my face, my mother would smile, knowing I will get through it.
But this is pathetic, the sun's shining. I'll get on with it.
Everytime I scream at my heels at the thought of being a little girly for an event, I laugh at myself for not being myself.
I am pathetic. Who was I kidding? Still you took time and made my whole week.
With every second I lose my mind, I'll pretend I'm in another city.
And I do not wish were here with me.
