Perhaps, I was never in my constant. I was a love yet a heartbreak at the same time. I was a coffee spill, a teardop, a heavy breeze or even a journal’s old sheet after all. Somehow, I was the hurricane behind the clouds, the never-ending movie in the cinema, the map of the lost Atlantis and probably Tinker’s pixies to Neverland.
Perhaps, I’ll never be in my constant again. Two souls and popping butterflies, on the next days were shedding tears and lonely hearts. Alas nor jack cards, carousels nor bicycles, unicorns nor seahorses. Always wasn’t my thing. Sometimes, all I ever do is to walk away and never be the constant in my life.
Because sometimes, I fail. Sometimes, I win the trail.
Sometimes, I’ll find myself.
Sometimes, I’ll lose it in you.