There’s the past and the present

I told myself you will learn

That my past told stories

It was Just the source of my beginning

I told myself you will never accept love that isn’t complete

But somehow I found myself once again unable to leave a place I knew so well

The walls were freshly painted but it was still the same walls

The furniture smelled different but looked the same

the ground was still uneven and balance was impossible

He was still him

The past sometimes likes to find itself in the present.



You asked

“Do you still look for him when you’re with me?”

I wonder how do I split a lie out of the truth?

How do I pretend that my eyes didn’t just whisper his name?

How do I convince my tongue to say I only want you?