Sometimes

Sometimes I miss you more than I should, where it exceeds the cells that make up my body and I think I make the people around me drunk with my memories.

In those moments I see in their eyes the reflection of your eyes and it isn’t it hurts to breathe, it hurts to move, to think, to exist, and to live, my soul hurts.

And I have, I have to close my eyelids and see lights in the darkness so I can’t recall the taste of the sorrow and the oblivion that is always behind my tongue and in the way of my throat. In those times where sometimes it is an overdose, I lose control of time and space and I find myself in the bench we talked for the last time, with red eyes and tired legs, without memory of what I missed.

T.A.