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Travelling to the bottom of my heart,

not walking,

not floating,

falling.

Trying to land on emotions,

where words do not speak,

they shower,

like flowers

that do not ask for permission.

If my emotions dry,

and I have to crash,

oh man,

it will be beautiful.

I have seen people

walk with a smile,

strike you on the way past,

then say sorry.

And somehow,

that smile does not hurt.

It flows towards me.

That will not be a crash.

That will not be trash.

That will be the bang of the century.

The hang of the century.

The moment

when time pauses

just to watch

me feel.

Oh man,

it will be beautiful.