Linger

This is how the aftertaste of love sounds - slightly bitter, slightly sweet, when everything is already clear, but you still can't let go. The words here go round and round, like thoughts after a quarrel, and each line clings to the remnants of hope, as if to a sleeve. This is not drama, but a quiet inner storm, where pride argues with longing, and the heart with reason. And while the world goes on, one question still echoes inside: ‘Why did you let it drag on?’