Whatever this heart may do, we will never forget the infinity that came before.
Together with you, I have created a few more memories for this year. Maybe I should have been there for the last few days, weeks, or months. However, with my tired eyes, I look ahead to greater joy. I am ashamed to keep repeating these checkpoints, but I seem to have an unquenchable appetite for it. The same darkness awaits me at some point on the verge of this cycle, hovering over the exit, which, at the moment, proves to be the same illusion. I am hurt by my own desires as well as by our incompatibility. I just wish I were still a kid when everything was so much easier. At last, I wish I were the monster, the creeping fear, prepared for the departure. But men don’t fly; except for our butterflies, who are long gone now. Our butterflies…
Only metal kept us close. Now, it is all rusted and felt with every kiss—poisonous and tormenting. I am cracked and in pieces, love. It’s time to go; for this metal has rusted and cracks into pieces.
Emanuel Ștefancu 