Apr 7, 2024
Empty air.
honey, I painted my walls the colour of your eyes
and i decorated them with pictures of you.
so when someone tells me i have a pretty house
all i can say is 'its not really mine but thank you'.
if you must know i have yet to wash the sheets you stained with lipstick and honey it has your perfume on it,
so how else shall I remember it?
when you left the door open i didn't close it because maybe you'd want to come back in
as a breeze comes and goes,
from the windows to the door and back again.
i find myself wondering
before ones lungs rust, is there a limit to the empty air they can take in?
