When you sit alone on your bed, crying... your friends say, for no reason.

But you've felt the butterflies' coloured wings flying once again inside your belly, and you've felt the warmth of a man's slightly bigger hands around yours commenting your sparkeling nails, and your wet eyes.

The smell never linger on your skin long enough..

You never know how that feels until you had his smile smothering eveything around you, his arms dragging your stiff body next to his under your flowerpatterned a-bit-too-small-umbrella in the middle of the street.

How a heart can long and freeze at the same time.

Darling it's called the heart of burned hearts.