I can not see his face or hear his voice once numbed my evenings. I can not feel your aroma. Nothing is the same for me if I have before me. What was love, it is a pity. What was joy, sorrow. What was hope, resignation. His hands are already in the crowd and look the other blends. Perhaps it would have taken more time to continue my life without him, if he had not opened this wound to our love! I discovered your efforts to conceal their true feelings. I noticed that it did not hold my hands over his chest and plunged into his days rotting disgusted and gave me love that only illusory and ephemeral. I can not see your face or hear your voice, or feel your scent, all that is false, you're a lie. Nothing is the same as those before me. Your presence alone is revolutionizing me inside and all the feelings and sensations that provoked me once, now only a summary: ASCO.
0 comments:
Post a Comment