Do you ever feel nostalgic for the people you never got to know? Am I full of others emotions or of my own–what do I horde from their sorrows.
Lunch time in Paris was where I got to know myself the most. Do you think the city remembers me? How about my forlorn gaze placing where I was meant to be.
Do you ever feel nostalgic, even as a heartbreaking cyclic trick.
Homesick–isn’t that funny. Tell me who was I, if you knew so little of me. I hear a train horn in the distance and know that I have made it home.
Halcyon-Mairéad's Platform and Creations 