Lights flashing on your windowsill,
Enveloped by the indigo haze of a lamp,
And the clouds of smoke built up,
From countless cigarettes,
You can’t help but smile.
The loneliness eating away at,
The remnants of your fragile mind,
Seems worth it,
Because it feels meaningful.
You would not exchange these,
Countless hours of thoughts,
The endless glasses of wine consumed,
All dedicated to one being,
As little he may care for you.
Fills the time you have to yourself,
While you enjoy it,
Through the songs and memories,
Which bring it all together.
Not a day goes by,
In which you don’t indulge in this ritual,
Of remembering what made you weak,
Of what made you feel love,
Of what let you dream.