bedroom window

remembering the stuff you said
it mentioned fucking something to feel alive
and I suppose I get it, maybe not then, but now  
there was a void, a place of imploding ribs  
and an echo of desire all more than breath  
more than air, more simplistic and classy than I find myself  
I guess you were a place of dreams that wandered too far  
we are imaginations favourite network  
I miss your powerful impression [do you know how rare it is for me to admit that?]  
you stop by at times, but only quietly  
we die beyond the lens while we live for what might be
Written by Magdalena
Published | Edited 26th Sep 2019
Author's Note
cross my heart and hope to die.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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