Mandatory Musings.

Birthed from a deadline and nostalgia.

The city named Hisarlik used to be named Troy.

 

The sky never let us down.

 

One static aspect of life.

 

I wonder how it felt.

 

I’ll never let this feeling go.

 

Two things at once.

 

Sometimes I wonder if you felt it like I did.

 

I’m trying.

 

The city named Hisarlik used to be named Troy.

 

Gripping too hard, knuckles turn white. 

 

There’s a place.  Does it make summer feel real?

 

There’s poison in the air. But we don’t care.

 

As soft as the bed you slept in last night,

 

But of course, it wasn’t that summer anymore

 

Does it hurt when it rains? Does it hurt in your heart?

 

The worst night of your life

 

It has just started

           

She was sick of formalities

 

Nothing let us down back then, what had happened?

 

“To the 13^th floor, please.”

 

They used to hang criminals in public. People would watch.

 

Millions upon millions of faces without a story.

 

What had history taken?

 

The garage door was open

 

Memories we told ourselves we could never forget

 

Nothing more than distant twinkles in our minds

 

Transcendentalism!

 

I’m sure the neighbors can see

 

Pipe dreams were nice, at least you could dream

 

The garage door was open

Heels click and clack on cold stone floor

 

But of course, it wasn’t that summer anymore

 

Sounds bounces off of sterile walls

 

And all at once you realize:

 

This is your life now