Ash graudually turns into snow and so the city is now white and cold.
You look so out of place with your sun-kissed bronze skin and dark hair.
I listen to Bright Eyes and Elliot Smith over and over again with all these emotions and words trying to be discharged.
But then, words are cheap as I always say. Emotions are silly and following your heart brings you around in circles not unlike a carousel ride with its plastic horses that make you feel like a princess for the 60 second ride.
All night bars with its neon lights that cast an unnatural glow on faces has lost their appeal. Hazy blue smoke that stings the eye make me cry so I walk away but nobody notices. The lure of alcohol turns stale - I would rather be offered a joint.
The birds outside sing a song of sorrow. I'll let you walk away for now.

Mais, je t'aimais.

But I'll hold my tongue. I don't want to fall again.

breathe // dream

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