obscura verba

i have lived through nineteen springs and countless winters. 

i like writing in low case and scribbling down short sentences. 

i listen to my soul and write down what she says. i’m not the poet.

she only lives in the night. i give her the moon and wait for words in return.

my mind is talkative, but my mouth is not.

i read shakespeare and listen to classical pieces. what else can you expect from a literature student anyways.

i like walking around dim-lighted libraries and reading with the sound of the rain.

i don´t know why but i can only find myself when the skies cry and the clouds are grey.