Dear ghost,
I lightly lift my heavy heart, hang it on the window. I have said it all.
I haven't loved enough.
But in that summer when you and I did not meet. I was so afraid of what I might become.
I am a coward.
Every time that I painted, I used the colour of my heart. It glowed in every darkness. It was suppose to caress me. It was meant to be.
It was written in the city of stars. The artificial city of man made dreams. But dear, it was beautiful. Take me on a drive, let's sing to songs in the background while watching the city of stars.
Yours.