The worst thing about going away
is fighting
every little piece of me which just wants to stay.
The hardest thing to do
is leaving
without being sure that giving my all is good enough for you.
The worst thing is the day before,
when sadness silently floats around the room,
when sadness silently floats around the room,
next morning you come home to an empty
house and can still smell around what's left of my perfume.
All the feelings which are left unsaid
keep spinning
around in different forms in my head.
While I am walking towards the plane
trying to silence my heart and listen to my brain...
...I kind of wonder where is home?
….with you where my heart is …or there
where I’m from….
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