Just fuckin miss you.

And you just miss it.
You miss it so well.

You know headaches are sometimes just flowers-minded to you.
You know sometimes I'd like so much just to river and sea you that my skin sweats and sweats a deep lake where we could smile some blue clouds.
I don't know anymore what is a fish and a bird, you made something nameless in my life between swimming and flying.

Hurt people don't hurt M., hurt people are the most delicate fully alive creatures, talking with the sunlight, arguing with the wind and healing with the stones.
You poured an ocean in a tiny soul. Are you still a sailor?