You know I write to you,
about the things I whisper in the dark.
Sometimes afraid of my own shadow
I tell you, ‘I’m not a brave-heart’
I rather want these confessions to be,
bottled up and thrown into the sea.
I only write to you to forget,
and not for you to know me.
Sometimes I seek your familiarity
I can’t wait to be home
I don’t like to answer calls
I...