Crisp brown leaves beneath my heeled boots

     I can smell something sweet being baked

     and the saltiness of the air that I breathe

     but the horizon is so vague, so far away. 

My hands are covered with purple gloves

     buried inside the front pockets of my jeans

     this necklace is all I have that matters

     I hope it wouldn’t lead me astray. 

No street signs, no mural graffitis

     I need something to make my gears working

     forgive me for thinking like this

     for trying and ending up with nothing to say.

Birds fly and sing because that’s their purpose

     to make you remember the uncertainties,

     fun, and transience of life here in this world

     but still, it’s me who wants to walk away. ©

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