Public Trash Can

Trash is called trash,
because it’s useless.

Unless it’s called "souvenir".

Oh, my useless souvenir….

When A holds my hand, ask me stay with him til he sleeps
I hope A was you

If you ask me to hold your hand, or even cut it
I’ll do it

When B ask me to take care of myself
I hope B was you

I still remember long time ago,
when I had to leave here for a while,
You told me, "Take care yourself, because I care."

When C calls me asking if I can give him another chance to explain
I wish C was you

You rarely explain things to me

When D asks me the 100th time to go to movie,
I hope D was you

We never go to movie theater together

When E tells me the fear of the life
I hope E was you

I don’t know your life, you ask about mine, but you don’t tell me yours

And F, G, H, I…….

You are not one of them,
Maybe,
you are just my imagination.

I’m picky in some ways.

Well, some people think I’m humble like hell in the some other ways

Something I love– usually at the first sight,
I never give up or forget.

I’ll do anything — anything for what I love.

Unless I dump it myself.

But somethings looks ok…
I won’t remember if I just toss it away 3 seconds ago.

I don’t even feel guilty.
NO matter how nice is that.

My dad always tell me the world is not only black or white.
Things are not only good or bad.

Maybe somethings I can change,
but something- like love or heart or soul,
it has its own will,
I can’t train my own heart to judge if I should love by brain

Therefore,
I’m still the double faces pathetic woman.

Yes, the evil ice queen and humble ass-kissing slave.

I love you,
he loves me,
you don’t love anyone.

Perfect combination.