I did that once, long ago, not so long ago, i had those letters, paper cuts, with scribbling on it, one side is a clue, a piece of life, the other is the bond, the kind attachment, i had a pier and a sunset throught words in grey, i had the flat and large buildings of a university set up in black on a blue torn slip, i had the postcard of an endless row of ancient pens and ink, it was the road we chose, i had that photograph, i still have, which all seems contradictory to what you said, too bright, the sky, the pavement, the table and the glass of lemon fizz, your hair like wheat, and your colored eyes who were supposed to never smile, trying to hide behind black, literally wearing it, trying to counter the happy sun, you imposed your eyes the bashing of your ashamed body every morning, i went to know, i dared traveling with that photograph and the pieces of your life in my pocket, fondly lent, i wanted to know we were supposed to jump that bridge, a call at home said, she's happy now don't disturb this, i know behind that blackness there was passion, i went to know, too late, i scared my mind, all i keep are the mistakes, a long series of scars, hidden under my bed, i want to fly.

I want to fly
I want to take a plane
and continue to fly

no more mistakes as regrets, no more fears, no more misunderstandings, follow my heart before it is too late