/Fear is/ never knowing /what is left/and
This is what I lost:[the name]
_______________If I stop writing about you
_______________Then I disappear
_______________When I do
_______________I set fire to every sound of your name
_______________Leaving nothing
_______________Lived
_______________Here in the ashes
_______________Underneath the holes of your roots
_______________Remains of heat will give away
_______________The place we last met
Poetry by Emelén

Read 1216 times
Written on 2011-10-18 at 15:38




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