an awkward tyranny of emotional distress and a hidden abyss of endless transitions…

transitions are endless

one cannot stop time from ticking

who knew that my heart would be in paris

despair in transatlanticism* 

vivid dreams accompanied by  such a state of desire

the need of physical intimacy,

the burden of melancholy and hope

 in ultimate disappointment, it lies…

intertwined between the truth and the lies,

the thin line that separates the wants and the haves 

roaming endlessly inside an empty abyss

an overcome, a rule, an oppression … must they become suppressed emotions 

letters pouring out of your mind

‘i’m leaving to martinique, ma vénérer awaits for me’

making a small joke, trying to ease the cold, lifeless, tragic death…

this long distance love affair has been put to an end.



Author: Loren

Somewhere between I want it and I got it.

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