Another night, another document.
Another storm of emotions,
old days revisited.

I lie here trying to figure this out,
trying to get a hold of myself,
chasing away this stupid cupid.

Can't believe what I'm thinking,
can't see straight between blinking,
it's two AM, maybe I should give in.

But something inside compels me to write,
something deep down keep up the fight.
The faint echo of an ego that died long ago.

I ain't what I used to be,
nothing here to see.
The wreck of a shell of a ruin,
almost forgotten, left for the raven.

Look at this now!
Writing something I don't even know!
I'm not sure what to accomplish,
don't even know if this is me anymore.

All I know is that if I don't stop writing
you won't stop existing.

When the poems are burned
the memories becomes overturned
Everything thrown away,
gone like you never existed.

I don't want to feel any more pain
but I don't want to forget my love for you.

Why do I have to make that choice?
Why do I have to choose
between feeling a needle in my heart,
and forgetting my first kiss?
Fate is so unkind...