Cutie mea de sentimente

No one knows
the secrets inside
smelling like old paper
of books you’ve barely opened
it’s like feelings
layers of memories forming its whole
on the outside.
But on the inside that’s a different story
sorting through them takes time
but reopens the doors
to the memories of you
it sounds like the honks and chatter
of the city languages unknown.
You don’t understand any of it
I can
you want to know what it is
but you don’t
you will know what it is
but not right now
while I’m away they chatter
not all the time but frequently
my journey
Cutie mea de sentimente