It seems uninteresting Almost mundane That two perfect halves of one soul were made Made for a search unlikely to prevail Made for “it just wasn’t the right time” kind of tale “He was here too late” “She knew it was bound to fail” Made for an “almost” kind of love How unlikely that the world is kind enough For a match-made-in-heaven kind of fate Instead Maybe the world could breathe out fragments of soul Shreds of one small pieces of a whole The bits you find of you in a

Let me tell you a story A story of a man Who told tales He’d hold up his head Bring his chest forward And close his eyes in vein He’d fall in character Like the flowers fall in may He’d hold his words like wine the lines they would stain His Pauses were in motion Like a deep slumber on a train He told stories Of family Of a love gone astray He told everything and nothing Open but closed away And day after day A storyteller Washed every tale away And I did not notice Each t

Honey honey What is it about your smile? How come you’re always happy? It must be a lie. It cannot be, that every story Simply ends fine. How are you so lovely? Locks like honey, Even stars tangle in their light. Tell me the truth Show me the tears, That hide in your wine. Show me the years That hardened your spine. Even light fades, How do you glow all the time? I’m either mad Or your world’s different than mine How can you embrace everything like there’s an entire univers