Bcuz it's the only thing that connects us with it, we tend connect with it... It being the luv lost n it being there pain what's left... We fall into one to find the other that gives comfort of it not being a total loss... To have the piece left being that clings the smile that tried to remove the ache in which sorts through the mess... Though it lasts less than moments driven in to the memory with the lie that they haven't forgotten... To live without them in the physical sense never tends to disturb the fact that time stand still so preserved the body grows old... Yet to keep the it's lil bit of them gives so much more than letting go altogether... Never to give up on the past as believing it still exists is to gather the shattered fragments of a place called home... As returning to the change plays with the emotional feel as if being the scene of a crime... Holding on with the might of hope that's found an opening in the heart n refuses to leave... Up until the day comes to call that life has redirected the torture towards the beginning of a new life...
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