Memories that doesn't exist
A house near the sea
A landscape full of peace
To calm the inner beast
Inside me.
Ending chapters in my life's books
Like I don't even have time to complete the writing of a novel
Instead we write some small summaries of supposed experiences
Always left undone.
My mind is blurry
I hope my vision won't betray me too
Not too old to dream again
And never will be.
The capacity for a new chapter is never enough.
Life is already too heavy
Unbearably heavy
Leaving scars at it's touch.
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