She got a chair, a pen, a paper
She tried to write and write them over
She was able to name a few
She wasn't able to remember the truth
She tried to believe the truths are many
She tried but oh, her luck ran weary
She drew the faces of some instead
She cannot remember for they're already dead
She spoke soft words that hurt her lips
She cried warm tears that wounded her cheeks
She has to fill a limited space
She has to select memories to erase
She used her pen to throw the strokes
She used her words until she choked
She stood up, got out of the chair
She got the scissors and cut her long hair
She burnt with them the memories untold
She has to let go and never again to hold