I wish I could open my heart more, to people, to new things, to new faces. Maybe their words are true; maybe I should let it taste more of happiness, let it be submerged in the sea of lights. But then again, I can't let it taste more pain, I couldn't even risk it. It's worn out, my soul's already too old, too near to what may seem to be the death of it.
My heart, it's never alone. It has me, it has all the memories. The companions of a flock of white doves, and a stray of a blinding light, bright enough to fill the empty sky.
