It felt like your plane had landed on my back.
I couldn’t see it. I could feel its weight bringing me down.
My hands touched you and broke into million pieces that day.
I looked into your eyes. Familiar. But then I lost them.
Just like that.
They tried to find me,
between dirty walls and missed calls,
I started losing other parts of you.
When it feels like it’s not over, but it is.
When it feels that your mind is breaking, but your heart is not.