sometimes i'll think of the past, where i can tell you anything and everything,
just so that we could hold on to one very thing to talk about.
but now, i have to filter every word i utter,
and make sure that what i speak of will not anger you.
i can tell you things exactly like i do in th past,
but you will never be as tolerant as you were back then.
why must this be so complicated?
if only it could be something just as simple as the past.
no jealousy, no hearts turning bitter.
i wish that this scene would fade away,
and the other, to re-enact itself.
silently,
into the night.