Sunday, February 28, 2021

it doesn't

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


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