gossip

*why can't you just move on? *. a question that echoes and dances gracefully, from the ears, to my mind. i am moving on, i have moved on in fact. no matter how beautifully i play dress up, beneath that cotton, there are still visible scars from the past. those words that stabbed me like swords, those sinister laughter they made, the darkness that sheltered the sacred temple of mine. i use words, alphabets , imagination to cure every poison that once crept through my vein. i am not lonely, maybe i have chosen silence to be the continuous tracks to my train. i am not weird, i just see  the world differently, maybe with less colors, or more buildings. i am not a princess, i am just another person with a pen and paper, writing her thoughts.