I dream. Of you.
I cry, as every moment goes by.
I try, to hold every tear that drips by. I try not to remember you. But in every moment that I breathe, I feel this burden of not letting go. Maybe you are free, as you had let go of me. But then, you were never the one who held me dear. But I did. And do. It may be repetitive when I tell you that I have moved on, and I no longer bother, but believe me, this is the only lie I ever tell you. I still dream of you, for you are just a dream for me.