Past Lives

The worst part of loving you is that I'll remember every bit of us. I'll remember the nights, every kisses and the movies we watched together. I'll spent the days reminding myself that I died in a bed of roses, within the universe where I loved you. I'll listen to the rhythm of lovers dancing in the rain, I'll smell you in the drops and bleed. I'll gather all my shattered pieces in the rain and burn them alive under the yellow city lights, where you once whispered, 'I love you.'

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