I will look through each door.
Put apart each house.
Dismantle each emotion.
But I will find your color
I will find you."
The more I think, more the idea gets tangled up in my knotted head. They say I'm oblivious. I must be a little more obvious in my words. How beautiful is the game of expressions, how would I ever tell. The fury, the lull of a lover's quarrel, or the soars of a heartbeat under the star-night- write about it for me, won't you.
Brick walls are there for a reason. Brick walls are meant to be broken.
Mine are vulnerably monochrome.
Anywhere, and I will follow.
This isn't about me. This isn't about you either. Neither is it about the kids playing fire 'n ice on the terrace today. Nor did I start writing keeping the messages in mind. This isn't about my thoughts, or the pain.
Words over my head, I know nothing at all. Stumbling, falling, learning to walk, I'm breaking the habitual stability.