Nu sunt o carte...

But

I am not hopeless,
but you are.
We weren't a mistake,
but you aren't agree.

I don't want you to leave,
but you say you have to.
I say we were a farytall,
but you tell me we were a dream,
that dream which never become real.

I want that that "but" to not exist,
you text me that this is impossible,
that that word is in your veins,
I think that it is only between us
and I don't know how to destroy it,
you think that this is only in my mind.

But...
This poem is about it,
about this fucking word.
And I'm sorry
if you thought it is for you.
You are wrong, baby.
This poem is mine
so is about me and my world,
about my life and my words.