always the poet,
      never the poem.

always the writer,
   never the story.

always the photographer,
   never the picture.

always the dreamer,
   never the dream.

for once...
                  could i be the muse?

the one in the photo,
                                     the poem,
                                                       the story,
                                                          ­              the dream.
or at
         least
                  the
                        inspiration.
­the one
              that
                      would
                                   be held
                                                 in
                                                      memory.

The fact
That every single one of us here
Has our own

C
     o
        m
             p
                 i
                     l
                          i
                               c
                                     a
                                           t
                                                e
             ­                                          d  


lives, thoughts, ideas, experiences.

And that everyone here is just a stranger—
NPCs in our lives.
The only person who feels real is you.
You can never be in their shoes. Never.

But still, their life is as complicated as yours:
As vivid.
As complex.
As challenging.

All those people we pass by,
Their lives a colourful, multicoloured thread,
Woven together—
Yet it doesn’t seem so...

It's not the fall,
but how you rise
after the fall
that defines you.

Love will not survive
if not accompanied by trust.