mercoledì 31 ottobre 2012

My person

"She is my person... If I murdered someone, she's the person I'd call to help me drag the corpse across the living room floor"

I once was someone's person. Or thought I was. It was a long time ago.
Someone I could call just to say hello.
Someone who knew every side of me.
Someone I could tell everything.
Someone who wasn't my love nor my mother.
Someone I could send a message to in the middle of the night telling I made love that night and it was great.
Someone I could rant to without being blamed for what I did or didn't do.
I've got new persons now to talk to but they aren't my persons and I'm not their persons.
I miss my person.
I miss you.

Should I say it loud?

I miss you.
I miss my person.

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