I speak to myself.

A lot she says.

Dumb words,

Forbidden expectations,

Faded hopes

With a stinking melody

Rattling through my ear…

The worst ever…

Gray stain

On faded, shabby memories

Which I call my “adorable fake”.

Hardboard architecture

Of the heart reeked of rotting blood-

Disgusting…

Window seat

With a closed window

Where the air stinks

With all the stupid tears

Fooling my mind palace…

An evening trip

Of an hour in a rusted train-

Weary…

Nevertheless yet

The breeze,

Witnesses our smiles on that seashore.

But I’m afraid

They weren’Adort absolute.

I speak to myself.

And still a lot more she says

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