Our blind steps.

 How slow is taking the time to pass through,

To know about the last time I’ll hear you close.

I’ve constantly thought if I did my best

And If we’ll be happier from then.

 

I’ve been missing you days,

Each one are falling like old books full of white pages,

In which we could have filled

Our best and sweetest words.

 

But we carry different weights, and our baggage were falling

In each others feet, just when we were walking in

Delicate spaces.

They fell so heavy to each other.

And, oh!, we never knew how to pick them properly at the moment they fell!,

Without hitting ourselves.

 

Oh dear, I loved you, but following you was like holding wood

And its chip went easily under my nails.

And I tried to grip them hard,

I would hold them for you, I wouldn't mind.

But you never accepted that they also hurt me.