oh
My life was a journey on its own.
For me,
it was a collection of journeys.
I would share my heart
and sell time to people.
I would sell time,
without time.
I would carry
my hopes on every journey.
And whenever I went to a new city,
I would realize that my hopes had turned into a utopia.
Whenever I set out on a journey,
tears in my eyes,
and my body would tremble with the tremors in my brain.
Whenever I left a place,
I would leave my mind behind.
And whenever I went to a new city,
I would take a piece of old regret with me.
Whenever I left a place,
I would take a few of my belongings
and many of my loneliness with me.
I would forget myself,
and whenever I went to a new city,
I would buy myself new sorrows.
And at the end of every journey,
I would be stuck between yesterday and tomorrow.