Literature
. my confession .
Every single evening,
when twilight deciedes to take over the bright sky once again,
I take my thoughts for a walk.
Every single evening,
when the daylight gives in,
I make my confession to the only ones who are always there to listen.
This is it.
This is my confession, my precious voiceless confidants.
Every single evening they fly away,
carrying another fugutive thought, another part of me.
Setting me free.