She was my escape.
The breath into my lungs.
That aeroplane that takes me to the exotic.
On a summers day, the refreshing rain.
My beautiful medicator. Savior to the pain.
The religion I can place my faith in.
My heart just a canvas.
Her love splashed me a new colour every smile.
Asking myself how did I survive before?
The message in a bottle on a deserted shore.
I am the vintage vinyl record in the attic,
that slowly lures dust after being forgotten.
Just call me the cobweb collector.
The vinyl she swore she would never grow tired of,
now sits alone, in the 3 storey house,
she and her husband grew fond of.