Dear stranger
I don't know why I started writing these, for you know not of my existence and yet I'm bleeding on paper for you.
And maybe, even if someday, somehow, I wish oh I wish that we finally collide, no longer strangers but lingering behind, I don't think I'll show you these ever, oh no, for I won't risk for you to see my insanity.
A secret I'll carry to my grave, for the world is too loud for them.
These letters, words, oh just plain paper, has been my only companion, for months have passed and still they do, but I haven't seen thee lovely face.
I wonder how often you smile like the last time you did.
I wonder who can make you happy.
I wonder if I'll see your smile again, for I'm dying to see another glance.
I wonder of your smile.
