Part of me wants this breeze to run through deep down my soul and a part of me wants to hide behind the walls. Part of me rolling under the lust of wandering and for a part of me running back to home is all it wants.
A part of me wants to dive to a vast, blue frosty ocean; touch the coldest part, shivering to the soul and a part of me is afraid to be felt drowning all alone.
A Part of me still long for every single touch of yours with all the love instilled, and a part of me wants to turn over the days to ensure we had never met at all.
And I don’t know what I want.
And a night is no more beautiful than dwelled with a mad river surrounded by creaking, swaying trees, extorting, plundering insanity and a rainy lullaby.
I’m cold and sour sometimes; sometimes ostensibly fleecy like snow. Drowning sometimes under the veneer of memories while sometimes swaying over the ocean all alone. Sometimes I run away to defy these hollow conventions and then being pulled back again with my laborious soul.
I am starving severely for love at moments and sometimes crave for not being adored anymore. Sometimes preaching morality is my utmost desire and sometimes I’m cruelest the most.
I am neither good nor bad; I am lost somewhere in between. I am lost somewhere in between.