I miss him like the stars
when clouds cover the sky,
or like a small mourning bird
once away it does fly.
I miss him like the whispering wind,
but you’ll never see me cry
because life can be a fickle thing
and we all live to die.
This is the worst saturday night I’ve ever had
I like this new lipstick!!!
This is a ‘where are you visting from?’ board at a local restaurant
Cementiri de Montjuïc (Barcelona, Catalunya)
© Misja Klimov, 2013