I still love remembering you.

 
I want to know
if you heard...
If you know what the scar tastes like
that your voice placed in my soul.
Maybe we even dream,
the same dream...
Maybe you'll call me from above
from the mountains of your dream...

A subtle bitterness, your name loaded
on cold lonely nights.
I feel the weight of time, endless,
dragging every worn memory.
In the dark silence of the bowels,
an echo resonates, empty and lost.
A deep, never-ending tiredness
marks of a love
that was never called love.

The words we always said
suspended in the air, heavy.
The future that when it came,
I was already worn out with promises.
Double incompetence from us!
Your look calls me from the darkness.
But I'm exhausted, broken,
by the chains of waiting.
As if a river got tired of flowing.

Every step, every bitter struggle,
every nightmare, no illusion.
Wither into yellow flowers
and the flower is bitterness
that dominates me.
Who are we in this void?
Fragments of a dark desire,
you and I, tired, just want to forget.
Eating at the flowers of oblivion.
Drink the crystalline dew
of the petals that sleep.