Stockholm syndrome.
But not quite,
I was locked here,
Behind the window of my eyes.
And yet, your glimmering lights.
Is still the only thing that I see,
On my waking dreams,
A prisoner of my own mind.
It feels like,
For every wind that touch my hair,
And every single deep breath that I take,
You're still with me.
At every daybreak
Or when the dusk comes,
Your smile lingering here,
Somewhere deep inside my fuzzy memories,
Of how things could end up be
If only.
Even if we rift apart.
I kept pieces of you,
To be parts of me
And live on.
Perhaps, those same pieces
Missed to be with you again
Tell me,
Will we meet, again?
