If there’s a hole in your heart, go to the one who opened it. Meet them.
Bliss with a little bit of chaos amidst love. Caressed with sunburnt ignorance under the guise of romance. Left with wounds that fail to close.
Your song, which I can only imagine would sound like an open flowerbed in the dusk of summer. The kind you’d often find yourself frolicking in where the air is clean and the petals stretch multiple miles, far outside the reach of vision.
Your song sounds what a tropical forest smells and some odd way taste like, with all its fruit and rainwater bliss. The kind that is rich and flavorful. Wildlife and all.
Your song, to me, is what I’d often catch myself playing on repeat to the end of all my days; a wonderful tune.
Hold a conversation with your neighbor. Might even come across a new friend.