My Cloudy Dreams.
I’m in love with an image.
A perfect picture.
But just a shim of what you really are.
A memory that lasts forever.
A memory that became a broken dream.
But that was after.
After it got burst and split in hundreds of pieces.
After the yelling
After the silence
My dreams are cloudy.
The fog that makes my misery.
My mind is screaming for a new start.
But still in my heart, that perfect picture.
Don’t want to lose it.
But it’s broken already.