that moment when i put song in repeat

where memories are playing backwards in my mind, projecting themselves on everything i see, where my coffee cup tastes differently (or maybe i keep on missing things) or maybe i just can take them in the same way anymore.

where life is a broken mirror, and your reflections are always different, depends on which piece of the mirror you pick as your point of view.

where questions are there to be asked, and they’re mostly rhetorical.

dear, i miss your smile, and how your eyes talk to me.