I 8 years ago, we met. And from friends, we’ve stayed as friends. Unusually I knew when you’d ever try to kill yourself. It was always at rapping at the back of my mind. One day I’d wake up to feel that something was off,
That if you succeeded, I wouldn’t have known.
Maybe never.
But a day ago we met again and this memo here is to say that... Damned... I’ve waited 8 years to taste your lips. And the fact that it’s now stained with cigarettes, nicotine and 3 cups of whiskey... I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
And I know we would never get together.
Because your eyes said home but you were a nomad.
We stared closely at one another and I saw... A hint of love and emotion for me.
That’s not what you wanted.
Because you’re still bleeding inside.
I guess it took me a long time to get over you and when I did...
I just had to make the first move to those articulate lips of yours didn’t I?









