Nothing seems enough
I dream about you, but I aching for more
and the demon inside is reading the epitaph
to be carved on my tombstone as a mantra.
I keep stumbling on the same patterns
struggling with my ghosts
getting lost all over again
in a heart shaped labyrinth.
Nostalgic, or maybe because the moon was full
I tasted the winter and it followed me at home
and now I walk on thin ice
knowing not
when it will crack under me
nor who will grab me when I'm falling
now that I have let you go.
©Diana Mistera 9.7.2025
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