The Scent of Jasmine

Surviving. That’s all I’ve been doing. Floating around the city like I’ve already lost my soul. A city that chews you up, spits you out without giving you an actual form of escape. Until he told me I was his. A spark of color and warmth amidst the grey. But I know more than anybody, that life will throw punches at you when you least expect it. This is the city that never sleeps. The city that always weeps.