Image
I need enough courage to let you go,
the one I don't have, and the one I don't want to have,
like a river clinging to its course,
so my heart dances in the mist of yesterday.
Some call it masochism,
but I call it love in delirium,
a flame that burns, a mirage,
an echo of your laughter that erases my will.
I'd like to be strong and close this door,
but your footprints are marks on my skin,
each memory, a waking burden,
that wraps me in its arms, like a cruel snail.