Someone please tell me why memories hurt so much
The moonlight is like climaxing a million times over, so beautiful but yet so dull. Like its wanting to reach out to touch something, but it being beyond grasp. Like the flowers in the pouring rain, slowly petals being torn from stems one by one, like the feeling of heartache. But a new rain comes and restores its natural beauty, like its brand new. Like the look of babies eyes, so precious and so pure, knowing not want hurtful thought is rummaging through there minds in those moments. Purity, disolves with age and experience, and with experience we are gone like the rest. Fading into non-exsistance. Into the ground and out of memory.