sâmbătă, 18 februarie 2017

A memory is a shadow. A shadow is death

Saying goodbye to ghosts is the hardest thing
I should know it better
For how long I've practiced
To let go
That I've become one myself
Living in the past
Trying to recast
Your shadow on the wall.

The moment I start to live in the walls of our house
To get them to remember
The contours of your shape
Instead of living in the house with my own body
And my self
That is the moment where I begin to die.

I'm sorry for all the days I didn't let the sun come in
I'm sorry for all the days I didn't let you come in
I'm sorry if I pulled the curtains
I was afraid
You'll get inked in the walls
Of my heart
And when you'd leave I'd die.

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