in my room that isn't big, but small
sometimes when I clean, I am reminded of you
where have you been going around
two small pieces of paper, also why are there so many
that old memory is so distinct
that day I rest by looking at you
I arranged everything and pretended to throw it all away
your traces are left behind
maybe I prepared for this
knowing I'd miss you
as if I forgot it all, although I live, I was always afraid
you cross my mind so I miss you so much that I cannot handle it those days
I want to search like crazy
to see if i have 1 picture of you
like the moment we first met
i am reminded of when your face found my fingertips
I think I will do it tomorrow too, cleaning this narrow room