How could you allow yourself in till that extent?
Of me, not being able to breathe because of you.
The picket fence is a wire, the wine is grape juice.
Plastic and copper, cardboard and synthetic.
I wish you were here with me, when I start to realize the meaning of things.
We should’ve understood the meaning of things together.
puzzle pieces, juvenile analysis, lots of fooling around and making sense out of it all.
"The heart has its reasons which reason knows not of."
ReplyDelete-Blaise Pascal
I like your writing Menna, it's very thought-provoking. :)