Those nights you've had before, walking among the stars. Clear minded and your chin facing up.

Moments before, it started haunting again - therefore you looked up to the sky.

Every step and star makes you realize that you're still very here and the moon makes you want to stay.

But still

There is something missing.

The smell of burning herbs and the hint of burnt paper.

The memory makes you want tot drool, but the so much stronger self exhales upon those thoughts.

An expanding grin that knows its becoming a smile appears and shows itself again to the remaining calming stars.

Latley I've been screaming.
Alone at night, or at the trainstation.
It's silent.
There is a pressure, right under my heart and beneath the ribs.
The tension you feel when you scream is constantly present.

I've discovered that these are emotions I don't succumb to.
Acceptance.