I can't love. I can only feel that force that forces me into desiring a dream that repeats itself, features that reflect, a pain that submits me to my most tragic nature. A scent that reminds me the smell of my sheets that white winter night when I had you and lost you.
I can't love because I already love. I love madly and desperately, with the longing of the one who loves a dream as far as impossible, and each and every of your kisses are the breeze of the sea where I threw your ashes.
I love you with the brutal force of a star banished from the firmament. And I know I won't ever have you, just as I know day from night. I know all I will have left will be the torn memories and your silent void.