Chains of the past show me how I'm tired of looking back. Of counting time as if it was sheep and days in terms of loneliness. Chains of a lost love don't let me walk forward to the future I built for myself. Chains of words won't let themselves to be rewritten, and it doesn't [...]


Your hands

Your hands carry mystery,  and tears and pain. Your hands carry a lie, I can't retain. Your hands have something of magic and sorrow, their touch is soft but cold as if they kept the look of a scarecrow. Your hands are made of knives, and covered with feathers, they are slippery and restless, and [...]