Paper planes all over the place
Paper planes of sad stories,
of lost love,
of broken hearts,
of painful memories,
of empty promises and shallow words.
There’s a war going outside between all the 3rd world countries.
There’s a war going in my body between my heart and my mind.
Memories are the grenades my heart uses to paralyse my mind.
There’s no escape plan,
no safe place to run to.
It’s an open road where you are vulnerable to anything and everything.
Maybe the war will end someday.
Maybe someday my heart will make a truce with my mind.
And maybe I’ll die in peace.
Maybe my body will get to the grave someday.