i've stopped believing in fairy tales.

in fact, i've burned every last one of them that I owned. in the fire by the lake. that pit closed in by old wooden logs. and i kicked every one of them, hoping they'd feel my pain as those pages hissed. and it seemed as though every promise grew stronger just before it faded away completely. it shined bright, trying to live again.. but my fire was stronger, and it consumed them.

no fire could reach the words that are still in my head. the memories are still circling my brain, running their own marathon. around and around on that stupid track. and i cringe every time they pass. they smell of sweat and old dirty socks. you'd think they would have tired out long ago, but memories never do. they dont get older and they dont get tired.

so i keep making new ones, hoping they'll lay peacefully once they are made, instead of running on that track of regret.

its like ani said, "I fight fire with words, words are hotter than flames, words are wetter than water."

and how true it is. because you can take it back, but you can never undo whats been said once. even if it was a whisper.