Everything reminded me of you. Every little thing. I could cry in the middle of the store when I heard the softly playing song that was once ours. Some cities became inaccessible to me. I don't go to the places where we used to meet. I can not. My poor memory seems to become incredibly precise when I see this one park bench. You disappeared and yet my whole life was full of you. What an ironic thing.
YOU ARE READING
•cancer's thoughts•
Poetrynie wiem nie wiem nie wiem nie wiem nie wiem nie wiem nie wiem nie wiem to będzie ta jedna ważna rzecz, którą po sobie zostawię
