/// Rewinding playback; on a favourite
      cassette tape. CD compact disc changer in
      the glove compartment. Eight track, eight
      miles away from that nostalgic memory of us
                    sort of around the time I was in love \\

Mixtape stories, as they once were,
one story about falling in love—as easily as a leaf falls
to the ground. Looking up to see how far we've come
Falling off track on a marathon of longing to be loved;
probably why I was skipping a few places in life, cos my
disc was scratched

It didn't feel so real in the moment: so fictional; all in the
fixations of an imagery room, filled with unimaginable
dreams. I dreamt about falling in love, but never dreamt
about getting this far

It felt strange, as an anxious mystery before
the next turn of the author's page
Never having the authority to control who we
fall in love with. Regardless, it did not stop me from taking
the authority to buy you flowers- my once pretty flower

"Could she smell my intentions a mile away"
Or rather smell the inexperience I have
when it all comes to love

I could say I love you easily,
but never take it well, being said back in turn
Words of affirmation, non affirmed by an affirmative
upbringing. Never my strongest love language, spoken
only in signs, growls and random sighs
Quickly avoiding a long hug, and saying just a hie

///Hello, opening conversation to an open topic
     in the air. Same place where we all catch a love sickness
     Knees of course in their weakness—mostly blushing
     over each other's sweetness. The tape's signature brown
     memories got tackled up in my heart's radio. Untangled
     now from you—I can't play you anymore to remember it all
                  guessing now it's finally the end of these love tapes \\

      ...but I still love you, for the record