Hollow Bones

 I went through all our pictures,

after two months where the glimpse of your face was traumatic.

They went by so fast,

the felt hundred years I scrolled through in two minutes, dramatic.

If you ask me "do you love me?",

my answer is a clear "I don't know". 

Not because I am cruel,

but because I'm so used to throwing my feelings away,

I don't know what they're supposed to mean or why it hurts,

if they linger will I find out? But it stings.

A hundred years of you,

in less than three months. In your house. 

In this small room where the outside world doesn't exist,

A hundred years of tears.

In all my memory only you

have made my head spin like that. Not even the moon,

for who I stayed awake until sunrise, just to talk.

If I see your face

and hear your voice, hold your hand,

Will you take my heart,

or will it set me free. I can only imagine, lest I see.

You're not Apollo and you're not Selene,

you're an angel, and I'm the one with hollow bones.

I can't dare to call you my angel anymore.

But that name is only for you.

You're an angel,

and I'm the one with hollow bones.