Truth is, I still write things about you.
I could still, even after how long
time had passed.
No matter of fading your memory
of us were.
I still have poems, written underneath my study lamp and cricket sounds
Breaking into my mindnight silence.
I could still write about the things
Of how it feels to loved by you.
To have someone to think about
after a tiring day.
Having someone wait and ask,
If I had taking meals before swimming
on graveyard shifts.
Or if I had finished reading Fahrenheit 451
and narrate every single detail of it.
I still have endless things,
Waiting to be scribbled,
Waiting to be read,
Waiting to be heard.
And I still find myself writing things
about you.
So I'll keep writing things about you,
Because this is the only things you left in me.
Things that could help me pretend,
That even after the vanishing.
I could still feel you being here.
CITEȘTI
I Forgot That You Existed
Ficțiune adolescențiI Forgot That You Existed is a story about the passage of time, insights and life-defining memories. The novel is told through Ava's first person narration, a precocious eighteen-year old, freshman college who's trudging the career of uncertainty an...
