heartpolkadotts

It is dead; the house is dead, so empty and distant just like the face of the ones who remain in the memory of immortality. A fish bowl with golden memories inside and a plant are trying to fill the empty spaces of my mind, to make see life there but… I know there isn't any. The sound of the wind blowing among the material remains left outside by the destiny, knocking distance's door, bringing me some memories of her… I wonder. What is she doing now? Maybe she's looking at the stars from her window, maybe thinking if out there another sad soul is walking through the time waiting for the moment of meting each other. Or maybe I should