It is astonishing how one can get lost even when moving backwards.

I thought I knew that place. I have been stuck there for a while.

How come I can’t really find my way back?

Or is it because you left? Is it also that hard for you to come back … to me?

I wish I would request a pin. A map or something.

If I get to you, will I really leave with you?

Or I will end up in the little pieces.

I always thought I was fine by myself until I saw you with her.

                How beautiful your smile is.

How softer your voice got. 

       There are nights I don’t have you in my mind, but when I do,

I always picture you running to me.

 Like I am your favorite glass and you run to catch it.

 There are new glasses of wine each day and I know you find them prettier.

Now that you let me fall, and went for a new brand and in your eyes it is prettier,

Wine will never taste in that new glass.

You know this too and all you have is broken glass pieces.

What if I told you I saved myself from falling?

What if I still can hold that sweet red wine?

Do you want to have the wine sweeter or the glass prettier?

I can take the lies but I can’t wait for them to get tired of you.

It sounds so great lying to me but is it the same when you lie to yourself?

Oh Love, is it easier denying me love?

Or just giving in?

   Obsessing over my lover who is another’s lover.

If I don’t get you back at least I want to get Shakespeare back to life.

I want him to read this and sit with me as he tells me how it feels to love and be loved back.

    Oscar will also tell me how it feels to be the reason a lover kills herself.

How satisfying it is that she dies for the right reason and not living or is it loving the wrong person.

As for now I am just going to need more wine.