I tried to understand the meaning of that day waiting for the end.
M'inerpicai along the little cobblestone street, almost running to not have time to think, not at that time. I was hoping never.
M'inerpicai along the little cobblestone street, almost running to not have time to think, not at that time. I was hoping never.
When breathing became labored and her heart began to scream, I found the time to let the pain come, and his voice is always slow, drag the words into the mouth and then throws you into the heart. I did not want to listen to my lies, and even the caresses that she had gone out of my skin.
You get to understand the mistakes only after they have been committed and that day was a great teacher for me.
I sat on his knees waiting for my legs began to ache, his hands resting on the cobbles, his head bent forward and felt the sweat through my face from chin to lean and fall on the ground, watched those little beat drops to the ground almost every set and I could not think of anything else that was not a curse.
on that road looking for something that I knew I would never have tried. I threw away another another dream, the sweetest, the most large, the more true.
The climbs are also descended, and the same hopes and paths have different perspectives.
I stood there, as if in prayer, softly repeating a name, which was confused with the south wind. That name was the only truth I could tell, that wind was the only one who could hear my sins.
now accounts would come back, the damage was done in the past, a name, a place.
There was more than time that passed and that name that burned my lips. I wiped away my happiness in the fear of pity, the shame of a past without a name, within the last ounce of courage I had left to call cowardice.
Slow breathing began to keep time I got up and looked. He was always there, between my lips and my thoughts ...()
(...)
You get to understand the mistakes only after they have been committed and that day was a great teacher for me.
I sat on his knees waiting for my legs began to ache, his hands resting on the cobbles, his head bent forward and felt the sweat through my face from chin to lean and fall on the ground, watched those little beat drops to the ground almost every set and I could not think of anything else that was not a curse.
on that road looking for something that I knew I would never have tried. I threw away another another dream, the sweetest, the most large, the more true.
The climbs are also descended, and the same hopes and paths have different perspectives.
I stood there, as if in prayer, softly repeating a name, which was confused with the south wind. That name was the only truth I could tell, that wind was the only one who could hear my sins.
now accounts would come back, the damage was done in the past, a name, a place.
There was more than time that passed and that name that burned my lips. I wiped away my happiness in the fear of pity, the shame of a past without a name, within the last ounce of courage I had left to call cowardice.
Slow breathing began to keep time I got up and looked. He was always there, between my lips and my thoughts ...()
(...)
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