Prologue:
- Was it a short movie?
- I never went to the movie.
- Oh, whas it good?

Your presence.
Makes her want to crawl out of her own skin, it makes her believe in the death penalty and violence. It twists her into this bestial memory of a person, and still you have not said a word. For you don't get affected by her temper. You do not see the anger that boils inside of her. And I wonder if you were blind while you fed her with the seed of hatred, because you do not even notice the devil you're growing inside of her. To live in the knowledge, that you'll probably never learn. Because you think of yourself as completed. A masterpiece that needs no polishing.

Epilouge:
Is that why you get all upsed and mad when she tells you something you should know? Is that why you turn into fire when she asks you if you havent forgotten something? Is that why you compare discussions with fights, and opinions with conflicts? Is that why you don't care whether or not she's in the wrong mood for a hug or a "laughter".