he was right
it does get easier
though not so much for me
every love song is written for already expired love
forgetting is not a busy heart
it is simply not thinking about it
i remember your voice so clearly
although we were so wrong for each other
these days
it's been a long time since i have thought so much over my only freedom
seeing a favourite film is like meeting an old friend
or coming home
it's been about an year since i have felt the best is yet to come
it's slowly getting me
what i miss the most is living in a home where art is created, music is composed, poetry is written and read every day, passion is danced away and dreams are discussed with every glass of wine
i miss fighting over who gets the only bed and who the floor, just cause nobody wanted the bed
