We live in old stained run down.
Modernist apartments.
Stale.
Mouldy.
Dead.
And, we do nothing outside.
Of trying to forget.
How menial it is.

To be.
Alive.

To be.
Average.

To be.
Poor.

Permanent idle hands.
And medicating away.
The boredom.

I woke up.
One day.
And you were.
Gone.
And we never.
Said hello.
Again.

When I get caught.
Up in a moment.
It's like I'm nothing.
More than.
Right now.
Here.
With you.
And, I've never.
Been anywhere.
Else.

I remember.
Walking for hours.
And ending.
Up.
With her.
Arm.
Around me.
Warm.
Peaceful.

We all have.
A rich existence.
We just never.
Think about.
It.

She feels like.
Somewhere I"ve been before.
And.
I can't help.
Going back.

When did I fall in love.
With her?
Was it when she smiled.
In that.
Oh.
So.
Special way.
Just
For me.