Thursday, December 17, 2009

The Passenger Seat

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.

1 comment:

  1. "The heart has its reasons which reason knows not of."
    -Blaise Pascal

    I like your writing Menna, it's very thought-provoking. :)