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57/218 For a better read: Walking in the cidar fo

57/218 For a better read: Walking in the cidar forest, both my hands inside my pockets, twilight ; windy, dark and nostalgic. I bite my lip and feel the memory of a lifetime, feeling the clouds nine, but it may rain or maybe it won't. So I keep walking amongst the trees so tall. Wondering if me or they will ever fall in love so good that we are uprooted once again, if we become a muse-ic. Thinking this I feel a song " The night we met " by Lord Huron. I turn the volume up, not down. It's me alone, no one around in my thoughts, I let myself fall once again in the lovelocked locket, finding it inside my pockets. I try and fall and feel the socket in my heart, desparate for love. But in fear of uprooting myself, I envy lovers, the happiest all. But I love my poetic enthrall. I am a poet, I wouldn't be so if I was successful with love, you know? But still the clouds promise me love. It may rain or maybe it won't.
57/218 For a better read: Walking in the cidar forest, both my hands inside my pockets, twilight ; windy, dark and nostalgic. I bite my lip and feel the memory of a lifetime, feeling the clouds nine, but it may rain or maybe it won't. So I keep walking amongst the trees so tall. Wondering if me or they will ever fall in love so good that we are uprooted once again, if we become a muse-ic. Thinking this I feel a song " The night we met " by Lord Huron. I turn the volume up, not down. It's me alone, no one around in my thoughts, I let myself fall once again in the lovelocked locket, finding it inside my pockets. I try and fall and feel the socket in my heart, desparate for love. But in fear of uprooting myself, I envy lovers, the happiest all. But I love my poetic enthrall. I am a poet, I wouldn't be so if I was successful with love, you know? But still the clouds promise me love. It may rain or maybe it won't.
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