Home
Once the heart can’t handle more pain We wish we could get back to a place that unfortunately has never been Some space we’ve called home that was nowhere Some story that has never begun and yet was expected to never end It was us melting and evaporating with millions of neurons
Our past was a saliva that helps us glue our head on dark pillows The sweet smile was never us That place was never a home It was the imaginary mind of a wise child
We lived in no place for decades Even though we gave it the key to our heart, the past that we sweetly adored was always avoided
Till now we don’t want to be part of that past Our mind is therefore a box of fantasies Our joy, our passion, the perfect home…. Those are for the creative nerves
When they see us smiling… They assume we’re happy and sweet Once the inner self is met, they realize… Our wild face is for anyone who met us with no mask
Once upon a time a wise woman said one’s home is their heart I guess mine could have been my mind When I was a wise child, I was sure it was But now I reckon it was but an illusion
Subscribe | Instagram | Quora| Twitter | TikTok | Tumblr | LinkedIn | YouTube




