How am I supposed to smile if you're not here? Your voice is more and more distant, like a whisper. Like the little creek we used to go every sunset. The little adventure of two young lovers who used to swear their friendship and love under the sunset.

I miss you...
I need you...
Please...
Come back.
Damn the night you went to good life.

Today, in front of your grave, words are no good. Delivering my life is useless but remember that our red thread is still intact