I hear words ringing in my head,
every day.
They are your voice;
your words.
Your existence is to the point where now all things remind me of you.
Scents, sights;
places of fond memories.
Everything.
Why does it hurt?
This heavy feeling of the chest;
it is so, so uncomfortable.
Why?
Tell me why, please.
With that voice of yours,
indulge me.
— Y.H.
a yearning,
gentle fervor.
Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 4:28 PM UTC
I hear words ringing in my head,
every day.
They are your voice;
your words.
Your existence is to the point where now all things remind me of you.
Scents, sights;
places of fond memories.
Everything.
Why does it hurt?
This heavy feeling of the chest;
it is so, so uncomfortable.
Why?
Tell me why, please.
With that voice of yours,
indulge me.
— Y.H.
a yearning,
gentle fervor.
Your tone, it is very much soothing;
your gentleness of phrase.
You make me feel as though I am floating in a placid dream.
(c) Y.H.
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