if it is one thing,
a large call memory or many things,
a dark road winding through me,
let up say it is a bullshiitted ..
ive been regreting everyday
regreting and singing them going to grow in one of the precious mine,
or now it is half over my head,
a partially open door..
pain dripping from the dream.
like yours it could be anything,
a hallway that leads to a thousand rooms.
wish that whatever happen to fload them away.,
when i close my eyes and look out a window for more than a few minutes,
so that some days i think,
it must be everything and nothing at once…
and my life is the breeze that blows through the whole scene stirring everything it touches…..