A s.m.s

A short message.
That is simply all what it is. A few press of the thumb, translated into digital signals and data. Yet, it is these few small clicks that disarranges me, block by block. Watching the phony clock in my phone spin around on its axis. If i hold it close enough, I can feel the small minute clicks away

It is raining outside and that unkown nudge made me run out with my camera. I love the rain, I love the tears. Forget my own, I shall not miss Heaven's.