Even flowers,

When not loved,

Turn to stone. ...

Bells are ringing,

But I can’t hear.

Lost in the blue, ...

Endless darkness.

Rustiness,

Not far away. ...

Like days of old.

When it was hard to decide,

Whether to hold back, ...

Grey walls.

Barred, black windows.

Dark moods. ...

Where to hide…

In the cracks, crevices, holes?

Or blend in, ...

I climbed you.

Long ago,

When dreamy, and naïve. ...

Perfection,

Stared at closely,

Reveals imperfections. ...

Wish back then,

I didn’t look at the forms,

Shapes or ideas, ...

Cozy.

Side by side.

Frozen in time. ...

To one day wake up,

Open,

Vulnerable, ...

Some days,

Hearts feel black.

Dangling. ...

Organized, delineated, predictable.

Tattooed with foreign words,

Numbers, symbols. ...

Old, wooden mailbox.

With a key, in plain sight.

Simpler times. ...

Strange sight.

Not the blue sky,

On a winter day. ...

Prisons,

Built inside one another.

Emptiness, ...

You look cold.

“Who’s speaking,

Fence, or snow?” ...

Pieces fall off,

When one opens up,

Naturally. ...

Dirty, wrapped tightly,

Hard to breathe.

Like days, ...

Circles,

Wrapped in years.

Memories, ...