Milda ZH

As air filled my lungs, you filled my brain then.

I felt out of breathe just thinking about you then.

Fear crawled down her spine, insecurity clutching at her ribs.

An empty carcass of words, held together by wishing bones.

Her words are fleeting; she never talks about important things.

I listen to my heart: it’s silent, mad at me.

That was when I knew – his spark had dried out.

Am I only as good as my heartbreak to you?

If it's in silence, it's because hearts are loud enough.

My own body became a prison I dreamt to escape.

I see my words reflecting on your face so clearly.

You don't have to know where you're headed: keep going.

Listen! As if your words are more alive than me...

One thing is certain: I never pick the boring ones.