Flowers, bread, hugs, books, gifts, thoughts, words and pictures are all things that make us feel. They can make us feel happy, sad or exicted.
Everything we touch and see , give us a feeling, in it's own way.
Love, Sadness, Affection, Bruises, Kin...
If I tell you I'm leaving, you'll probably ask me about the reason. I may tell you the truth or lie. Tell me what you want to hear, because no matter what I tell you, you will only believe what you want.
Liar
And no matter how lost I am, I will return to you,
Perhaps a choice,
Perhaps an imposition,
Or perhaps a childish decision
If I ever get lost from you,
I am a liar.
I do not lose myself,
I do not forget the way,
And I never leave the one who holds my heart in his hands.
And if I do,
I took my heart with me and left,
I will not come back,
Because my home is no longer you,
And if I say that I am immigrating
And to you, I will return,
I am a liar.
How can I leave a country that has my heart?
Or rather, how can I migrate without my heart?
Can a person live without his heart?
Can he breathe? Does he wake up in the morning?
Does he pray in the evening? Does he live?
If I say I am lost or migrating, and to you I will return,
I am a liar.
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