A Beautiful Silhouette

She's a dreamer in her own dreamland. She is no vocal. What resounds her more is her inner soul. She can be more honest with her psyche head-on than merely with constellation. Those stars that flicker during nights are much more trusty, she said.

But she's on a vague amnesia right now. She forgot she's living the present and is far away and no longer her yore. For her, it's a shame to think of her past. Then tell me, was it the memories or the truth alone?

The truth that left her hanging might be the only fear. But she tell herself this way; those pitfalls are hers, they're part of her whole she once called shit.

She might have dark side of her life. She may call them nightmares in real life but trust me you can call them dreams. Your own shadow can tell. You can always choose not to look back but ain't hide from it. You can always move forward. The path of this shadow is more than a fairytale when she wake up. This tells a part of her. For this darkness is not hers forever. She's a beautiful silhouette after all. This shadow will leave after the sun will set. Her sunrise is not giving up. These pieces are all hers, each piece engraves a history. Each piece is part of her. Each piece tells she was broken. Those pieces are her masterpiece.