No, I don't love you anymore, I don't miss you. I'm just grieving, a dream died.

I don't want to see you anymore, I don't want to kiss you, your lips are poisoned. I don't want you to hold me, your embrace would suffocate me. I don't want to look into your eyes anymore, they would turn me into stone. I don't want to feel the touch of your skin, the mere tought of it disgusts me, I think I would die if you touched me.

So, if people ask me, no, I don't love you anymore. I'm just grieving, a dream died. But another dream was born from the ashes, like a phoenix rising to a new life.

(Photo by me @ Quinta da Regaleira, Sintra)