Untitled

I sit on the worn bench..

The light of the street lamp flickers faintly above me..

I shiver, I'm cold.

My goosebumps tell me I should leave now.

I hesitate.. you said you'd come.

I've been waiting for you, every day.

In the cold wind, in the hot sun.

In my darkest hours, you were the light.

I watch the little insects fly by the lamplight..

Maybe they feel what I feel.

I thought you'd bring light to my dark life.

But I should leave slowly..

The worn bench is the source of all my memories.

You greeted me here three years ago.

Yet your touch seems foreign.

I'm cold, the night is cold. You're no longer sitting next to me, whispering; hide here.

I'm leaving. My legs are shaking, my heart is pounding. What if you come later, And I avoid you?

Will I be the reason if I don't see you anymore?

But if I stay, nothing awaits.

More cold nights, And hot days.

So I say goodbye to you.

If you see me again, please turn away.

Don't feed me with a hundred and a hundred new beautiful hopes, just please let me forget you,

And keep looking at the starry sky.