If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.

Δευτέρα, 26 Οκτωβρίου 2015

I Wanna See You.

After everything that has been said.

And done.

Maybe even undone.

You reach a point, a day, a night.

Your love, your longing, your essence is greater than the shit, the anger, the I'm-not-sure-it-even-matters-anymore.

My white flag was up and flying in the air.

Yours was up for a while now but my anger, my ego, my pain would not let me surrender.


I. Can't. Help. Myself.

So we happen to see each other.

Out of the blue.

God you're a sight for sore eyes.

And my heart's not pounding, not throbbing against my chest but fluttering with joy and pride. Cause there you are and fuck you, you little piece of shit, I still love you.

And then you see me and you break into one of those smiles, my smiles, the inner smiles, I know, I saw your eyes, smiling along with your mouth.

And it's like it never happened.

We smile to each other so genuinely as if nothing ever came between us.

That moment how you put your arms around me again.

And I effortlessly let you.

Who cares who and how many were there.

We were there and it was enough.

That moment.

When we meshed into each other, lingering in each others existence, as if time had stopped and everything around us had slowed down.

After so long.

We still owe each other a dance.

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