It's late, around 1 am
There aren't any whispers
Hushed night
But you can see a small light coming out of my room

Seeing myself wrtiting this poem
It's all transparent now
Εnunciating each feeling on the paper
It's all so vulnerable and sensitive

Deafening thoughts inside my head
Trying to escape
But all the gates are closed
Nobody in, noone out

I love when you talk to me
Your voice is calm
Like the summer breeze
Knocking our windows

It is not about what you say
It is about how you say it
I can hear every letter coming out your mouth
Watching your red lips

Your colour of your voice is warm
Like the sun above us
And I want to touch your little tongue
Just a little so I can feel your burn