The way it is
For years I have been only pieces
Of who I was before.
Running away from the past,
Which I return to in the still of night.
Cannot help looking back,
When the present is only whispers,
Of what I used to have.
Imagining you here by my side,
Forgetting this time without you.
You hold the best of me in chains
From far away,
As I slowly crumble to ash.
Robbed of my dignity, my vivacity,
This world easily traps me in misery.
With each day as a reminder
That I should not love you,
But that I do.
Copyright © Martina Adovica