domingo, 6 de enero de 2013


How much it hurts

this love I haven't yet lived

The deception I dress men with
is the deception of my own abandonement:
betrayal from me

I've already grown up
enough and save
to not need a father that could love and care:
I am the author of my own
and success

It's me, now, my fault, yeah
I swear:
and the hate towards men
is the hate that upon my person I scramble myself

while those my apparent enemies are just some mirrors that remind me my own unresponsability.

Now I see,
it touches my heart,
that my jeaulosy in men's happiness or emptyness is just the deep call inside
that bursts my soul in remind
that I need to go home,
close my eyes
find me,
and love me,
and do what I might want,
need, love and want.

Now I smile!

I understand
that that's how there can be joy in seeing other's living freely and happily their lifes!:
From the freedom and happiness of my own, own sweet heart.

21:11-23:00, 6-1-13 MdC Tfe

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Hey, claro que sí, abre un hueco!: