I write to find myself. Untouchable soul. So young and brave. Bless be your heart. That’s where I belong. I am going back home. I live from unfolding feelings, that explode out of my chest. Like volcanoes. Expelling their heartily-red lavas. As if it’s tired of holding on. Volcanoes need to show the world how alive they are. Just like my soul. It vibrates. It trembles. It boils over those subterraneous unreachable feelings. It’s feverish and full of life. I live as a throbbing Earth. I’m a volcano about to erupt.
No comments to show.