kinto

Im not sure I remember when you left, why I didnt hear you walk out the door
You simply didnt make a fuss, there was just nothing left for you here anymore
The only thing you took from me, a crowd of my most beautiful words, most heartfelt sentences
You filled a bottle of them, a desperate runaway aimlessly sailing on blue oceans and faraway seas.




Sometimes I feel so empty that I dont even know what to think of it.



Not that it really matters anyway.



You, who are visiting my journal at this very moment, what would you like to know about me, if anything?

What should I know about you?

Why?


to all.