The tattoo on my lips says you'll be here forever. That permanent ink, with your long name on it.
The music of your voice always playing in my ears. Just like a "déjà vu", that will go on for years.
The poetry you never wrote to me, and never shared. But the one that I somehow read anyway.
The dancing lessons that would lead me to the end. Even though, I was so bad at following your steps.
YOU ARE READING
Flowers of my life
PoetryPoems. Based on women that came (but eventually left, too) into my life to stay forever. Even tho, the roots of these flowers are fed on unrequited love, they are enduring and gorgeously painful.
