tears of honey
My universe is reduced again to one corner of my room. I have gathered all I need next to the computer and now here I am … knees to chest, arms around knees, looking down … feeling down. This time I have failed … I could have done more and save the charm of a moment that deserved to live longer … could I? I could have said that in an orange room it feels warm and cozy like in an orange but I don’t feel that way. I could have said that I have sweet tears since they come out my honey-coloured eyes. But metaphores are for writers … not for common language just like dreams are for the moon light and not for the midday. Ahhhhhh …. I hate this false charm that some draw upon themselves.