Vintage

     I want to drop everything out of my soul. I want to take away the pain, throw out of the window my scars and sweep those pieces of soul that have been taken away by a shallow wind who was never supposed to reach it, and who would have never been able to reach if I wouldn’t have been eager enough to let the window just a little bit open.

    I want the raw material, the vintage look. It fits me better. Far better. I want my old habits back, I want to sweep the dust out of them and allow myself to be “me” again. I want to bring back to life the initial me, who has been covered in so many fancy clothes, who were only making it more superficial. I want to have the courage to express my mind and let my lips hold the speech of silence. I want to close my eyes and feel the depth that was closer than ever. I want to open back my eyes and find a new start of my old me. I want to take a sit on my best old bench, and enjoy the white colors of its gently scratched backrest.

    I want to learn a new language, because no matter how its letters look like, the message remains the same. I want to look into some eyes with my own and read their intensity. I need my hair to rest over the strings of your guitar and gently challenge them to offer me note by note a slow melody. Let’s dance. Caress my soul and take me by the hand of hope. Don’t lose my sight - it’s just a cover of the sweetest tango on the instrument of love.