City Quotes

6 months, 2 weeks, 4 days,
and I yet dont know which month it was subsequently
or what hours of hours of daylight it is now.
Blurred out lines
from hangovers
to coffee
Another vagabond
at a loose cancel to esteem.
4am alone and not far-off away off from my enhancement.
These are my finest moments.
I scrub my skin
to rid me from
you
and I still dont know why I cried.
It was just something in the quirk you took my heart and rearranged my insides and I couldnt recognise the emptiness you left me gone in imitation of you were over and finished in the middle of. Maybe you thought my insides would fit bigger this way, see bigger this mannerism, to you and us and all the blazing.
But later you must have distorted your mind
or made a wrong
because why did you
depart?
6 months, 2 weeks, 4 days,
and I yet dont know which month it was later
or what daylight it is now.
I replace cafs behind than crowded bars and blank roads in the back uncharacteristic bottles
and this town is healing me slowly but still not slow or sudden plenty because theres no right mannerism to realize this.
There is no right way to get sticking together of this.
There is no right pretension to realize this.
Charlotte Eriksson, Another Vagabond Lost To Love: Berlin Stories vis–vis Leaving & Arriving

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