I remembered you.
I feel we have something in common.
A desired love, a remembered love.
Words that sooth unquiet nights.
Memories made of tears.
I feel skin that doesn’t belong to me.
I remember a smell that I hold.
Do I still hold it?
“It’s weird how we always talk about the same”
Do memories have life?
Does life change?
I interpret words that aren’t mine.
I interpret colours that maybe I don’t want to.
Do I know what I want?
I know that what I want changes while I grow and then I don’t want it anymore.
“Time to sell” the other guy is saying.
I jump and I jump and I jump again.
Why stop if the world never stops?
Author: Joana Bernardo
Materials: Multiliner pen; Watercolour