"noted".

I still cry when your voice is raised. I bawl my eyes out if not on the insides, each time I fail to get my point across to make you understand and when you talk about me- oh, when you talk about me, my heart breaks if not shatters almost each time. I wonder if you ever flip to the page of your book with all the notes I have written and look back at it. If you have ever really remembered me for who I am or what I ever was. I imagine your face, your reaction, how before you know it you wished you never had or did. Maybe it hurts you a bit too much you would rather not think about it-

I can never say much without giving it all. I still hold on to this where it's safe and sound. I know it's just me now. I really do. Somedays I just wonder how it would be like if you were ever more gentle with me.

-riri-