prisma oriole
Memories
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How is it forgetting me?
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The night that hides my secrets never told them to the day... After wanting just one more drink, I see that it was you who left without leaving any sign.
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I understand your frustration, but am I really all that your passionate mind creates of me?
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For a poet suffering for love there are no limits to what the mind can imagine and so for me you were the light of the moon on dark nights, the shine of the stars in an empty and full space, the damn love that guided my path... .
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Seeing all this, what I did seems cruel to me... But you understand that it wasn't my fault, right?
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Honey, I never blamed you and I never will, the only problem is every night now I have to look at the ceiling and see you dancing the dance that didn't give us time to dance... Get up, get a sheet of paper, my blue pen and draw you over sentimental words in a love poem that will never find you...
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But this one found me, right?
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No, he didn't find you, it's just another one of the love poems that my pen spat onto paper on a sleepless night... Even though all this hurts, I know that after the hundredth cry stops and the hundredth first doesn't want to comes, I can smile again and my pen can rest until my chest is staked by love again.
tiny nest
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