A year

My words ran out the moment you left me without the sound of your voice, now what I do is to mould the same words in different sentences because among those letters is your memory and for it, I would abuse them just to make you immortal.

Read my stories and my poems, read my sins and my offenses because then you will see that I have actually made a deal with the devil to retain an eternity of a year, and maybe I’ll hate you for my whole life, and I surpass you every day for a second but at least I'll still have you when I need you as calm in the storm in an abandoned life.

T.A.