It just stays there.  It sets up camp, lights a fire, and slowly burn out, but when it’s about to, petrol is added and it’s aflame again.

Not that it’s on purpose.  Or maybe it is?  It’s not surprising if we only remember the bad parts of it.

And words stick like paint to the wall.  And we try to undo it really, we try our best to forget, and but then that’s it.  Words are said — and most of the time, they are ugly words — but they’re just out there.  In the air.  The same one you breathe in and out everyday.

And yes, I believe it’s the same thing the other way around too.