she used to write so much
about love and other
nonsensical things
she was passionate for words
her mind filled with
imaginary memories
now her papers are blank
pen's lying on the table
and her hand
fitting perfectly
in another

you came into
my life
as an
exclamation point
wandered it
as a
question mark
i thought you’d
leave with
three dots
behind
but you left
with only
one

you can't
let glass fall
then blame it
for breaking
too easily

an open notebook
things to do before I die
no checks, never mind

maybe we have slow internet connection
everything loads a bit later than it should
messages received a bit later
videos streamed a bit later
photos loaded a bit later
everything is a bit delayed
or maybe it's just having to live worlds away