words uttered can never find their way back
to the place where they come from
be it a sentimental heart
a logical mind trying to reason
or the deepest pit of your guts, where courage lies
you let them go
regret will only leave you in pieces
but then, you're shattered already
cracks that show but won't break
it will leave your bodies in forms of
explosions that rain pathways
so many delicate, little branches of roads
and you'll always ends up choosing the familiar-looking one
is it because it's the easiest thing to do?