A box of paradoxes

It really feels like breaking a heart
When I think of letting you go
The problem is that the heart is mine
And I can’t let the memories flow
’cause my mind tells me
To stop imagining you
And my heart tells me
To go and get you,
The glances we forgot
The words we share
The kisses we spare
The long late night walks
The beauty of a sidewalk
The sweet hugs
In elevators times
The sad goodbyes
Every time the train arrives
Your beautiful parfum
That inspired my plume
‘Go get it!’
He tells me,
But I don’t even know
If I really want you back
’cause after all
The suffering I’ve packed
Is a box full with pictures of you.



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