Unpacked suitcase

In the corner of the room, a bag full of memories stands .. as beautiful as tragedy. Longing to be peered through, wishfully ...wistfully.

She wants someone to take it away when she's not looking. And throw it away, far away...in a river that flows swiftly away.. from a mountain top she'll never look down from... into the deepest trenches of the ocean...

Just take it away and never open, ever ...

But she looks around and it still stands by the corner, longing to looked at..wishfully .. wistfully...

.

Old tunes...

The songs that once flowed free in the breeze were melancholy but beautiful. Today the stains are too loud, the breeze as silence as ever. Push them away, the myriad questions that rise, the what ifs and the what nots.
The sights of the unsaid, the sounds of the unseen.

Listen to the tunes again, and search for the same strains of strings.

Maybe..

just maybe..


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