I was not able to
write again,
for you were the muse
and leaving me was the
decision you decided
to take
I thought it was about
the presence
of yours
I did not take picture
of you,
of us
I have no evidence
I am hurting
and I am fine with
the sorrow
because I am healing
for now I realised
it was all about
your existence
and I write again
for there is
the memory
of you
of us,
you exist,
we exist
because the memory
lives.