It’s 11:11. When there’s not much time left to the day, when we used to make wishes and laugh. Everything reminds me of you. The wind is as cold as the edge of your heart. When I open the window, you blow in. When this time passes will this break up be over? Will I forget you? Everything finds its place and leaves. You took all of me and left. But like the two hands of the clock in my heart. I keep lingering in the same place.
In the calendar, the date that we planned out long ago, if you forgot about it all I guess I have to erase it. After a while it won’t be a big deal. Like a strange flower that blooms between seasons, like the morning star that hangs between days. All of this, some day, will pass. Everything finds its place and returns. If I finally smile as if nothing happened, calling out your name won’t hurt as much as it does now. I believe I’ll be over you.