Book

November 16, 2015

I wanted to be intellectual

While you never colored in the lines

You painted yourself on buildings

And I only painted you on mine

We often flew away too fast

And I loved touching the clouds

While you loved the heat of the crash

But your dazzling eyes

Dropped day by day

And I couldn't find myself in you anymore

And the mirror pictures me as a smiley face

But couldn't see my heart on the floor

Are there any specs left of

Our fairytale

Can I have one last look

Or have you finished telling our story

And opened up a brand new book?

-m.c.-

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