Untitled 008

10 agosto, 2021

Empty words,
empty conversations.
Nothing means anything anymore.

People speak,
they say words,
but no one really talks.
No one listens.

Empty words.
Empty promises.
«I won’t leave»
turns into goodbye.

Meaningless conversations.
«you up?»
and
«what are you doing?»
never
«I find Freud’s theory of subconciosness particularly interesting»
or
«lately I’ve been wondering if any of our opinions are our own or just a product of someone else’s absorbed words»
at 2 am
in quiet whispers,
between stolen kisses

I fell in love.

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