Where do you go to bear the days
we should’ve spent together?
Because I stand in front of a colorful game booth
and with its mirror reflecting the collector of worn-out affections,
tiresome music that sounds nothing like ships crashing into each other,
I still plummet in the most uneventful moment time and again.
I’m solitude-shaped,
the liveness of these colors escaped,
and the only two times my head surrendered to your shoulder became supercuts-
never replayed.
Where do you go to bear the days
We should’ve spent together?
Because I froze in front of a colorful game booth,
where I handed you my flimsy fantasies-
tired of whirlwinds,
looking for shelter from frenetic seas.
Where do you go? Because I go nowhere,
I apologize for foreshadows I shadowed,
to blizzards, I found warmth in,
to departures delayed.
I refuse to go,
I want to witness a nosedive caused by the predator of my dreams,
someone I made out of two poems,
a downfall that begins and takes me with its streams.
Where do you go?
Because these days are mine to bear,
and there’s uncertain beauty in how I prepare
to never misread the signs again.
Where do you go?
Why don’t we meet for the last time in front of a colorful game booth?
Tenderly falling apart, no melancholy, no inevitable truth.

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