I caught myself coming back

to the lyrics of an old song,
to the colors of old photographs,
to the pages old journals,
to the every little old thing.

and to the old us.

Because memories are also place.

They are places wrapped in a beat,
in an album, in a poetry, and in someone’s heart.

And at one point in my life,
our memories once became my favorite
place I kept coming back to. Flashback after Flashback, it all felt nostalgic.

And at the same time
I felt that beautiful pain
you left behind.

(pictures from pinterest )






I sew beautiful words

To please the eyes 

Of a dreamer

Little fairytale

Embroidered with lies

A land of illusion

Created by me

I wish

It was that easy

Turning my fantasy 

Into reality

But truth remains

There would be no smile

To carve

For the tears 

Won’t stop flowing

And so I cry

No regrets

Just keep wishing

Upon the stars

That soon

This tears will be my joy

A reward 

For my patience and faith