I’m realizing that people come and go. They sit here and analyze how their future will be with you and disregard the fact that soon enough you won’t be in the same solar system as them. I feel like every heartbreak is just a thorn that got stuck under your finger and blisters up until you take them out completely. You start deleting all their pictures, you start changing the aura of your room so the candles that you light up aren’t the same smell as her clothes. Mohagonay wood, that was the absolute smell that lingers in my room even after I have emptied the candle but kept its shell.
I keep your stuff still and things that remind me of you like your pictures that have been taken down from my wall but not thrown away. I have your shirt and even though I haven’t gotten rid of it and washed away your smell. The shirt symbolizes the time I didn’t have an extra shirt and I took yours home.
You’re stuck in my mind like a piece of glue when you’re walking by life and it gets stuck. It’s stuck forever and as much as you try to scrape it off your sole, there’s always a reminder.