I have sat by night beside a cold lake

And touched things smoother than moonlight on still water,

But the moon on this cloud sea is not human,

And here is no shore, no intimacy,

Only the start of space, the road to suns." - Trans Canada by F.R. Scott

Not a day goes by without thinking of you
I don't know what this means
But i miss you
I miss words of magic and dreams
I miss the protection
I miss the romance
I have distanced myself enough
Perhaps i am not the same

I am on the train again, i keep thinking of writing to you
I thought of writing a long long letter addressed to no one in particular and to everyone.
I have filled pages and books with letters to you, for more than a year now, full of confusion, but would stop myself before sending, wondering why would you want to read it? You might expect something else, words of love, not of confusion, so i let it be, so pages remain, perhaps torn away, lost and tucked away at forgotten places, filled with doodles, cut up words and rash lines.

Nothing

Nothing