Passing through the walls

You are 
a post-it note 
that’s just going to 
collect dust along the lines
until it turns from yellow 
to a pitiful grey. 

Atleast, 
that usually happens
when the people you love
never stay. 

I’ll read your contents 
almost every day
and maybe I might 
hallucinate.

Know that 
on my wall, you’re safe.
But if I ever could,
I would gladly watch you 
fly away.

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