The problem of loving you is that I deny the fact that I should forget you.
I deny the certainty,
I drop myself onto the pain of your memory,
the honey of your poisonous potion
and the sharpen of your claws.
This morning the sighs were bitter after remembering that I lost you,
but the day was bright by knowing how many times I wished for it to happen.
Your way and mine, divergent and unalike, but they will always share the same starting point.
Together we learnt to love and that lesson makes me know that I will be with you in every kiss
even if it is distant to what we invented when nothing really mattered.
We were so free that we did not even care about each other.
Ferocious, wild and out of control, but charmingly connected in a different dimension,
a world only suitable to demented like us, without cure or remedy.
It was you and me and now we are any other two.
We were left there, where vessels shipwreck under the storm because of fearing the sea.