What it feels like. Could I ever be expressing this. Every time some music, high or low, drops in the heart. And I know I've risen. In melody, Every time some words are sung, that you and I are always afraid to say. Then there rise some other beat that resonate with your breath, and you are left with just goosebumps all over. Staying high has always been a habit, Staying high on music, and yeah staying high on life. Love! Has there been any bigger addiction. No? As when the beat drops and the soul is lost in utter silence, the heart comes pounding in the rhythm of memories No wonder leaving the chest withered. No deep breaths make the self sober, and I never wish to break this dream of life. For when I wake to reality with no enchanting emotions and still pale faces around, I fall apart, every time, singing lullaby to self.