now and then, strolling by the sea, I write my deepest pain on a tiny piece of paper...
I tuck it in a bottle and throw it in the direction of the vast oblivion in front of me hoping that it never returns...
often I see that the bottle gets washed ashore with the paper now drenched and the bottle now crushed... even the sea doesn't seem to like it.
I don't know where to put all of that pain...
your eyes saw through my pain once... and they spoke to me.
at least, I thought they did.
hey, I don't want them to look at me only for my pain.
would they look at me when I smile thinking about you?
would they look at me when I so badly want them to?
if I send this post tucked in a bottle, would it reach you?
in case it does, will you talk to me?
love,
s
