Love comes in small batches of torn, crumpled papers stained with perseverance and midnight breakdowns Love comes in heavy bundles of endless calls for survival in a cutthroat jungle dressed as fondly romance Love comes in empty halls that keep the years and filled with unfillable spots donning its own light Love comes in crowded rooms through some piercing looks and warm breaths dictating the atmosphere (or utmost fear) Love comes in a cup of coffee that stirs the tranquility of a holiday morning until the last drop drips off from your second cup
Scribbles from occasional daydreamings