Maybe one day
I will run out of words for you,
And my heart will learn how to fill
The empty spaces
With poems you will never read.
Maybe one day
The longing will be filled,
Maybe it will turn into a memory
And my days will no longer
Be tinted with its colours.
Maybe one day
I will learn to let you go
Maybe I won’t have to.
Maybe the sun will stop telling me
That another day went by without you here
And it will only mean
Another day.
Maybe one day
I will only find metaphors in poetry
And not in your absence.