I sneaked in. No there was no one looking. So what? What if there was somebody looking!

I took the air into my lungs. Lungs? Yes. Yes, Yes, Yes! I have lungs that pumps the air in and out. Why don't you? How do you live then?
hmm... I always thought we lived with our heart.
You still believe in that sentimental shit?
Yes. Why? Don't you?

Did I? Do I?
'believe'? that sounds like a long lost friend from the trenches.
We stuck together though the stone pelting and the mud, through the muscle writhing winters, migraine strewn summers. Then the war was over. I came out met the rest and left belief hung on a rusted pin in our chilly trench.

I was a romantic once but now I smell romance selling in the dark alleys i find in old moth ridden photographs packed in plastic packets on a shelf in my back drawing room.