Memories of a dead bird
Once... I felt your memories like torn cotton strewn everywhere... I wished for them to make a warm blanket to enwrap me through the cold, cruel nights... But, now... Your memories are like scattered feathers of a dead bird flying in the sky Will a blanket made of them keep my heart warm? ******* The only puzzle, My dearest, is this: Did I blow a bubble In your dreams And burst it before You saw it for a bubble? Was it a bubble, Or was it real? ****** Do you see the tsunami waiting to rise up inside me? Don't you ever come to my world again, even by mistake... The waves trying to escape from me will spell doom for us, drowning both of us