Scribbled words on tissue papers

Random songs from a shuffle play

Late night walks without any destination

I wasn't the wordsmith—she is

She turned the mess that is me and my life into a meaningful rhyme and a beautiful melody

-

He colored me yellow, I painted him black

Just like a scenic view in between day and night

Strong and glaring like the noon sun

But quiet and calm as it hits dusk

What a great story we could have been

If only fate didn't intervene

* * *

"I never wish to be easily defined. I'd rather float over other people's minds as something strictly fluid and non-perceivable; more like a transparent, paradoxically iridescent creature rather than an actual person."

~Franz Kafka