3 am and we started pretending we were high because we were underaged.
You shared me your loveliest words.
I read your flowering poems.
I felt each word deep down and I pretended not to be emotional.
I felt special because you shared them to me first.
You taught me how to whisper to the cold winds of December.
You opened my eyes to the hope that I have lost,
You reminded me to dream the most unrealistic things.
... And that surreal starry night ended when my phone died and my eyes shut themselves.
Days dashed through their ways and time made its fate that I slept when you were awake.
I saw you sharing the same lovely words to other people.
I heard you saying your flowering poems to them.
I might be selfish... but for the first time, I felt like those words were only mine.
Maybe it was my fault that I slept through 3 am and you were awake until 5 am.
Still, I whisper to the coldest winds at night.
Still, I remember that night when we pretended to be high.