Sipping from the small cup of tropical rum, I stare at the wall, as Sara wails at the top of her lungs, something other about Cassiopeia a star that founds herself colliding with another star, and I can wait and see the constellation change on top of my head as the darkness of the evening becomes more prominent over the horizon
‘Cause I would die to make you mine
Bleed me dry each and every time
I don’t mind, no I don’t mind it
I would come back 1000 times’
She cries, heart on her sleeve, the notes of the piano accompany me through the bitter burn of alcohol down my throat while I believe I can relate, in the past, sometime, and I just can’t figure it out. Yet.
‘You can make me wait forever
Push me away and tell me never
I don’t mind, no I don’t mind it
I would come back 1000 times…”
And I remember, suddenly, those eyes, and I don’t mind, I take another sip, and I feel, finally, my memory taking over me, it was that evening of a very fine and hot summer, when everything seemed blurry and fast, like a hurricane of images and words that tramples down my thoughts with the noise of a land that is being ripped apart from the inside. Debris and objects fly all over my head, and when it finally settles down the only thing I can picture is her eyes. Those hazel bright eyes that managed to enchant my every fiber. And I finally understand Sara, and I can finally see what she means. So yeah, I think I could wait forever, and be told never, But I wouldn’t mind, Wouldn’t we Sara? We would come back 1000 and one times
A life spent making mistakes is not only more honorable, but more useful than a life spent doing nothing
George Bernard Shaw