Safe love

your words are like a warm embrace. I'm really happy for it.

uncertainty

I'm trying to write songs and trying to write poetry. I know I'll hate it all in a few months' time.

I don't understand you. I don't understand you at all. or maybe I do understand, but the simple explanation is so cold that it makes me shiver and tremble with disappointment. It would mean that the warmth that I thought was there was brief and meaningless. I was hoping I could trust in it, when we both seemed to show a little more of ourselves in words and deeds.

It makes me think that I should be heartless too. I give away so little of myself now, and this is just going to make me put up more barriers of frosted glass. Only some light gets through and it's all distorted.

Freedom shouldn't be in a lack of emotion. But that's what it feels like now - if I didn't feel anything, you could not hold me. The reality of this makes me a little more cynical, a little more disappointed, and a little more broken. These picturesque dreams that I've held close to my heart slowly fade into sepia tones as life goes on.

If you don't care, I shall pretend not to care too. I refuse to be perceived as weak, troubled or in pain. we shall carry on like before, only now I have a hole some where in my chest that I have concealed behind several panes of frosted glass. If you listen carefully (I know you won't) you might hear it the next time I am with you and talking to you through so many of my own walls.