I buried us in pieces.
There's no one grave
where I could go and sit and weep,
reminiscing the bygone times.
I buried a piece in every place
I had taken you to,
along with me...
even when you were miles away,
in some other city.
I buried pieces on roads and highways,
under trees
whose shade felt like your embrace.
I buried a piece on trains
and flights and in cabs,
where you had accompanied me.
I've scattered us in too many places.
And I did it on purpose...
so that never in my life,
even if I'd want to,
I'd be able to collect them all
and go back to being
the person I used to be.

©whitewings