Some things |
Some things he will never know.
Like that I still keep
some of his clothes.
That I wear them sometimes
when I go to sleep.
Like this old white t-shirt from H&M which is already ripped.
It makes me feel close to him;
close to that time when we were one and the world didn't matter
or we just didn't give a fuck.
He will never know... I kept those DvDs.
The ones called "Band of bandits".
That series we were watching before everything exploded,
and I will never finish watching
I don't understand myself,
and certainly I don't expect you to do it either.
This is my story, a part of it.
A part which will only end
when time decides it's enough.
For I can't draw the line
or write the words in past tense.
I still wear the ring. THE RING.
When I feel down,
When the weight of the world
feels too heavy over my shoulders
and I'm incapable of moving forward.
It's so inexplicable how
such a small thing of my past,
a past which tear my university apart
into a million dispersed stars,
can push me up.
He will never know,
And I will never admit,
my days end with an 'I love you'.
When I'm in bed, alone,
feeling he's not beside me
and spoons ain't no more than cutlery. It's dark and a bit cold, always,
and I'm not refering to the atmosphere, it's that precise moment.
The last thing I said
during almost 3 years every night
was that 3 words sentence.
which were the reason of my existence and I seem not to be willing to let go.
I say "I love you" to the silence,
to the nobody laying down next to me. To an empty space.
And only then ... I fall asleep.
With him... And without him.