This life,
This
Wonderful.
Beautiful
Struggle.
To live.
And to breathe.
And
To love.
This.
Is life.
Mistakes.
Cracks.
Breaks.
Happen.
But life.
It goes on.
And on,
our bodies.
We wear our past,
Like
Paint plastered on the ceilings.
Too old and too hard to peel off.
Viridity
The days of true gold.
Where everything simply meant nothing.
Serendipity.
Those years were indelible.
How I miss those days.
Before I met you.
Before
I felt the agony of your absence.
Before
I learned the true meaning of philocaly.
That.
Was all
Before.
I knew from the beginning,
That when I found you,
I was only meant to lose you.
I learned to love you so that I could miss you.
You drank my poison,
And I drank yours.
I was icarus,
And you were the sun
I was a writer.
Who shed no tears.
But I bled on the pages for you.
Time
And time again.
And
I would do it.
Time.
And time.
Again.
To the ends of the earth.
I would go.
For you.
When our bodies meet the ground.
When we die.
Let us become part of the sky.
So that every time that it rains.
You.
Me.
We.
Are everywhere.
We couldn’t be when we were alive.
The places.
I would have taken you to.
The nights I would have spent with you.
Oh,
To be loved the way you love.
To find you in every melody.
To share the same moon.
Under the sky of stars I would have robbed for you.
This life,
This
Wonderful.
Beautiful
Struggle.
To live.
And to breathe.
And
To love.

This.

Is life.