Do You Know Who You Are? (l.s.)

7

 Louis Tomlinson

regret and guilt

eat me alive at times

wishing so much

i could undo

all of my crimes--

so many things

from my past it seems

all the huge mistakes i've made

seem to haunt my vivid dreams

and oh the pain, the fear

that constantly encompass me

whenever I think that one day

all in this world will be able to see...

but there is no undoing

that can possibly be done

[...]

so off i go trodding through

until the end of time

when my days will come to an end

and all will know my sins, my crime.

Regret and Guilt, Ami Shae, Nov 2016.

"Do you like it?" The old voice comes from my right, I am seated -more like extended- on the old desk I washed the other day. It is really beautiful and shiny now, I'm practically sure the ugly fur coat lady would love to buy it, maybe next time she comes.

It is arrivals day today, so the store is closed. Liam usually comes on those days to help get out of the truck all the heavy furniture and settle it in the shop. Right now he is struggling with a huge box and I am not helping him, what a pleasure.

I am peacefully reading one of those books we sell in the store, this one is a compilation of poems. It is surprisingly new, his lack of wear is making it differ from the rest of the place, that's probably why I chose it. Phil definitely saw I am not helping his son -which is kind of what he is giving me money for but nevermind- his question cuts me in my reading and makes me look at him. "What?"

Talking is actually hurting me. Drinking too much yesterday was a bad idea and I knew it, all my body is dysfunctioning right now, my head spin, my muscles hurt and the light- oh my god ! Why is the light so..... lightful?

"The book." The old man stands up and walks towards me. "Do you like those poems?"

He grabs the book in my hands making me lose the page I was on- Oh come on Phil, you are lucky I love and respect you. I sit on the desk to have our heads at the same level before saying anything. "I... well it kinda hurts".

He slightly laughed. "It was Lily's" He looks at the book with a huge smile. Lily? One more person I don't know. I swear to god this man is famous, everyday he talks about someone new, the worst in all of this is that most of them are dead by now. Getting old sucks.

"She was my best friend, this is the last birthday present she gave me." The way he looks at the cover and the tone of his voice show how much he must have loved her. He never talked about her before but I'm sure this book means a lot to him now.

"Anyway I never read it." He quickly tosses the book on the desk next to me. Wow I'm not so sure anymore. He turns around and goes back to his chair. At the point I just think he loved Lily a lot but is just used to death. Or he just hates poems.