Like Atlantis,
we drown never to be found again.
People will not remember us,
instead, they will think we were a myth.
I will be the only one to know
the way we painted each other with magic
and the way nature bowed to our love
for that she knew it was bigger than her herself.
I will have to carry this memory to my grave
and keep it safe inside my chest.
I will have you living in my veins for as long as I live,
I will keep you breathing with my own lungs,
Even if you're far away.
Even if you were the one to set our temple on fire.
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YOU ARE READING
Bittersweet
PoetryThis is a compilation of poems and other random things I write, usually at 8 a.m. in the subway or 11 p.m. while I eat cereal.