Back to the floor.

Back to the floor, when this month is not enough, when the summer goes by while I'm sitting in the same chair, doing the same. I'm still breathing. That's a good reason to smile, isn't it? I miss you. I miss her. The notebook is full of pain. It keeps all the tears, all the scars. The damage. The blank pages are waiting for the ink. They wanna be written. They need to feel the black caress, they long for it. Nothing else to say. The words are missing. Can you find them? I'm unable. My heart belongs to whoever wants it. I'm still that kid. The girl that used to jump from the benches of the street thinking she could fly. Fucking gravity. Only my dreams are waiting for me. In the same place, the same corner. They will always be there, waiting for me to do something, to keep going, to dare, to risk. Do you feel the weight? My shoulders are tired. But I'm not giving up. Never.