"Last night i had a dream about you.
I dreamt that i met you in warm conversation.
and your smell,
the familiar scent that used to linger on my favorite sweater.
and the way you smile,
you haven't changed a bit.
but then i woke up.
and when i realized it was a dream,
the empty void in my chest started to hurt again.
and no matter how many cigarettes i smoke,
that warmth could never cover the cold.
the cold you left inside me,
when you told me you didn't love me anymore."
YOU ARE READING
James.
Poetry"you are a work of art, not everyone will understand you. but the one's who do, will never forget about you."
