Designer: Yours Truely


You've Just got to know that I'm named Belinda.
I love God ,SHC & Japan. OF course, Bro & Sis in Christ.
I hate all the sadness you've brought upon my life.
But im nice & forgiving, In your dreams.

if both of us are to cry, I want to be the one who cries louder,I want to be the one who takes a longer time to recover.
I want to absorb all the sadness from you..I'm holding on but you've already let go.

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Flipped those Pages: May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009

Prosopagnosia.


bruised shins and cracked spines. i've been trying to align my vertebrae with my wavering mind.
i already forgot what i'm trying to remember with my headaches and blurring visions.
there was once a time when i had memorized your face down to the freckles that
decorated your nose,and i could tell you the exact angle that your eyebrows
madeover ever dark eyes that sparkled grey,
but now all that's faded to that point where ,i don't even know you anymore.

it pains me to remember.the white-noise in my mind when i try to picture your spellbinding
face is deafening. looking for your features in my mind is like
tuning in to a station with static.

and i'm searching for the cracks of claritywhere our frames
break open and i can finally see except there are holes in the picture where you
should be. all this breaking apart is killing me,and it's getting harder to find
a place to hide your image in my rapidly deteriorating mind.

it scares me to know that one day,you'll be a stranger.
all the kisses, embraces and whispers we've shared,will surely be gone
. gone along with your face.just like a feather slipping through my fingers.

there's this sickness in my stomach that's taking hold as i watch my memories
of you float farther away.and it's building in my throat since i see you in everything,
in the afternoon heat that's breaking my spirit,or the sunstreaks that are staining
my eyes,and most of all in the thumpthump that's my overworked heart.
but i don't even know how you look.

i'm going to move away. i'll pack up my heart in brown, broken suitcase and i'll leave.
because i can't stand seeing you when i can't recognise your face.and i can't
stand being here because i'm reminded of the things i can't remember.
and i can't stand loving you if i'm loving a stranger.

don't miss me.
because i'll have no choice but to forget you.