Having this melancholy in my heart, I cried every single night to feel something better but not numbness. Knowing that just a few years has changed a lot in me. My strengths, my feelings, my moods, my ideas and so did my definition of home.
Quoting;
Why would, he, who never wanted anything but happiness would deal with what you left in me. Why would, I, who never felt to be not alright, feel like cutting this throat off and wrapping myself into every possible piece of cloth I could.
My senses just want to remember what we had.
I never knew it would be you but I knew it could be 'us'.
Maybe not anymore but maybe I know that this is what it feels like being imprinted.
Those cold hands slid down my shoulder, pressing my fingers with a slight nervousness at the thought of picturizing "what ifs "between us. A slight whisper from you - calls my soul out it affirms "Maybe we can do it differently this time, or maybe not, or maybe I miss you everywhere I breathe."
I just want...to know how it feels to be loved? How to fall back in love? How to fall out of love?
How to comfort someone you call yours, how it felt to be taught right rightly,
How to call someone yours and lean on their shoulder while you cry,
How to please your little happy moments? How to teach yourself the right self-love and stay beside the person who treats you as home.
And yet I texted you,
"Will you be by my side, be the wind that heals and takes it lightly?
Just be by the window while I look out for you, be by the door while I open it,
wait until I love to open up until I heal, and call me every time something goes wrong."
I whispered inside" When to know - it is time that I call you,
What if a wall inside me calls for freedom and the same wall falls aside when it's about me realizing who I can be and who I can!
I call you with withering teary eyes, covered with memories that we owned..."