throughout the city lights, cold wind and attempted to warm ourselves. The people out there suffering and cries over her crying can be heard through the glass that separates his lack of our arrogance.
is only a month, commercial and ridiculous ... I want and not the end ... a month full of false intentions and unfulfilled promises. "The most beautiful time of year," the time of the hypocrisy and the failed attempts to become better people ... a month full of surprises and at least a promise that exhausted their agony to become reality, a month of reunions inevitable ...
do not understand why I'm here, should be in another world succor lives and helping the dead to pass on the other side. However, in this life I pause a bit, color vision and portals. I pause a bit to visualize and understand. People go in and out of my life, which must be, some hurt more than others, and do not understand, just know that this is well ... and deep down I'm still hiding from you, but I know I get to the end of the year. Arrive with your horse and your sapphire eyes alight, with that smile that I stopped watching long ago, with your words hanging in the dawn, weaving our steps back over the years learned, over all these and darkened lives and devastated ... I did not know anyone who seems even just a little to you ... not met anyone worthy of having me, because everyone makes mistakes and I had predestined from the same way as it had arrived, everyone saw my footprints disappear as water vapor, all were silent, seeing the floor, wanting to scream a no go, wanting to yell themselves "Dare to let your fears and be happy!" ... and then, between disappointment and accepted that words silenced see you again, we would still find a few forms and many others to continue painting our history. Perhaps now is the time ... if I have already changed and you and you let go of your ghosts and monsters ... your
Your words follow me every day, suspended in time "again and you shall find be mine as it always has been, will search and return to be yours ever be stopped "...
'll return to year, return to the heart blindfolded, will open the door again and my stomach butterflies flit through my being ... will return to conquer as before and then I will fall in love by umpteenth time you ... You will return to the cold winter wind, the fog again to walk in your hand, we will be others, but in the background will remain the same as they met one sunny summer afternoon, between sea and souvenir salt tears and hopes the same will be broken ... but we will remain in the background, and other ...
