10|02|2022
I'm jealous of how the poetry reach you, of how it could understand you more than I do.
I am jealous of how passionate you are when you write, by how your eyes lit and draw a smile.
I am jealous of how delicate and fragile the poetry is for you, of how it brings the best out of you.
I am jealous of how your soul is binded truthfully with it, of how your emotions are perfectly connected to it.
It's like a string that holds your pieces together, it's like something you could even hold forever.
