Have you ever thought about how good it would be to come back
with you, what lives I didnt have in my dreams
, I was alone and lonely, but I wouldnt leave you alone,
what trips I made with you, what trips I took you,
I reached the point of death, but I didnt die in your air,
Im writing about you, I dont love you, I dont love
you, I
am writing about you
.At the time of writing, I
didnt have anyone but you, I didnt name anyone but you,
all my stories are your story, if its
sad, its from your
grief, its from your grief,
with you, what life I didnt have in my dreams
, I was alone and lonely, but I wouldnt leave you alone,
even I would reach your dreams
, you would reach me, but I wanted
to say that you know how I am,
but fear and apprehension were crossed out. I thought
about telling and not saying what days I went through, I
went and went, I went and went so much that I still didnt come back,
I all my stories are your story, if its sad,
its from your grief, its from your grief,
everything poetry is love, I wrote for you, I burned
in hell, but I wrote in heaven
, if its love, telling your love will make your
people inherit without whom.
