I become a hero.
Inhale. I’m breathing in the smell of your shirt.
Darkness. You left me alone, although you know that I’m afraid of darkness. Or loneliness.
Peace. Only me and the melody of our song. And memory.
Memoirs. It is grabbing my mind. I remember…
You knew about me everything: my fears, desires, preferences, even the color of my favorite lipstick. You loved to kiss my smile. And I loved smiling most in the world.
You had never made our bed and always littered in our room. But I loved this mess. I loved you for all your bad habits.
I hate you as much as… I loved you. Or love? Still.
No, I’m not waiting for you. I’m in recovery. Believe me! I’m not waiting for you… but I still have slept in your clothes. I still have felt a flavor of your last kiss. I still have not wash the cup of your coffee.
I’m admitting. I lost. I still want to become a hero. At last.
I’ll be waiting for you till…
Forever.
No chances for recovery.
No comments:
Post a Comment