Backwards
The wind blasts from the sea, a paper cup falls down
I’m gazing at the sand beneath my feet
Why should I listen to these noises on the background
Is there another small cafe around to sit
Time heals but it remains unclear what
The pain subsides, then it evolves into the new
And that new pain is just exactly like the old
Time’s not a goodwill paramedic in my view
Self-deprecation is a healer free of charge
A tunnel vision tunes the optics of the heart
Troubles diminish, and small pleasures look enlarged
The view clears up and there we are, never apart
Sometimes I’m able to perceive the memories
As if I’m living backwards, sit and wait
Just yesterday, I smelled your roses in the breeze
You said you’d called me, but I called you back too late.
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