Gezellig
Every moment
I hold dear
Filling scrapbooks
With polaroids
And smiling
When I look at them.
But when
There is nothing
That brings us together
No birthdays
No school
There is nothing but silence
No messages
No calls.
In these times
I realise
I am nothing more
Then a friend
Who is just present.
They wouldn’t miss me
If I was absent.
“Het was gezellig!”
I say it for the last time
Write it next
To the last polaroid
And as expected
The scrapbook stays empty
After that.








