ink-free piece of paper

Notes from a summer night back in London
with a glass of rum and coke and most likely Elvis

In my heart there’s a clouded trail leading to a secret chamber, where my defense goes blind, where everything that once hurt, reappears. For some people there’s a constant battle to keep sanity within reaching distance, for some, there’s simply nothing in their morning newspaper that states something about those silly things, and for some, the battle never saw the light.

And a hundred words could only say so much. A hundred sweet-talks, dirty-talks and then something in between. Your smile becomes my charm and your lies are like lace on my skin.

Misunderstanding and understanding, heartbreaks that leaves life-altering heartaches and the never ending guidelines for someone’s chance in life. Just like a demanding voice at night is bitter and tasteless in the morning.

– and commas are allowed



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