Home

I remember touches, here and there, as if those skins that were near me at one point were made of some kind of fabric only the universe knows.
I remember sounds that light up the room, even if all the drapes are down, and the smell of those sounds scare me more than death itself.
I remember how sweet is the color orange… No, the color red combined with orange, in the pale light of the sunset. That color used to sing me lullabies until I fell asleep, and at one beautiful, lonely point in my life, it was more than enough.

I do not wish to remember all kisses I gave for nothing, all the embraces I lost to some people. All those moments of pure friendship spent on people who thought I steal, I do evil, I am fat, or ugly, or nothing. All those moments when I wasn’t the number one choice I wish them forgotten, and buried, and burnt, and lost.

I remember being lighter. I remember being love. And now I want to come back to that point, because it was the only point I felt like home.

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