Will you ever forget? Will you ever recall or miss the times we had shared? You leaving then turning the knife on our relationship. How much of that act was intentional? Exactly how much of that action was caused by my neglect? The smiles that we used to share. The passed times, was there really no accountability? Weren't the memories made together somehow going to be responsible for holding you back from such acts of cruelty? Was it all in my mind? 

I wanted to ask. To verbalise the questions to you and gain only answers of absolute truth. Yet maybe I'm just wishing upon an orbiting satellie as a shooting star. Maybe, I'm just a pure kid. One that sits infront of the playing cartoon and acknowledging that the T-rex are simply the misunderstood nice guy. The fierce act and viciousness of its factual nature was made up by the great imagination of science. Will you let me be that child to tell the others that the innocence of one is more powerful than honesty? Or are you to remain cold? That being who looks upon me with a smirk of victory. That this child here is overly simplistic and a moron for being too idealistic. 

Even if I had said all those words, pronouncing all my vowels to perfection, being the great example of speaking proper korean, will you had been honest? Questions. So many of them always buzz around, like leech that enjoys the blood from my veins. I'm going to run dry soon. If you knew I was in such state would you have run back? Without any apology, I would still take you back. Package this episode as a nightmare, taking it all to be a grand illusion that felt unnecessarily real. Do you understand where I'm coming from? 

With this noisy thoughts, are your ears itchy? Could you identify that it was me? Will you even recognise my concerns? Just who are you and how much do I really know? Am I just another audience that had managed a sneak peak of the cuts behind the scene? Frankly, maybe, I am just as clueless as the general public. Still, let the elephant out of the closet, let me breathe in the air of knowing. Pull the knife a little harder, I rather bleed by the facts than all these speculations that I can only conjure. Who else but you can truly certify my thesis. 

I need to know you. The real you. I am only a mere being that requires classification so that I may rest comfortably in the realm of reality. The order my captive mind seeks has tossed the key to you. 'Come back home.' My eyes open to greet the silence of the room. 'To this home that you deemed to be a house.'