It hurts when someone lies to you. It hurts to think that you love the image they give to you when it’s not the real self. It hurts like hell, cause you tried to give yourself to someone in a real way, you open up your soul to them, you give your mind to them, your feelings, your heart, your life. It hurts cause is a constant why, why is he lying to me? , why is he treating me like this and treating her like that ? why is he giving her that and giving me something else ? Is he giving me his […]
But does anyone notice? But does anyone care? And if I had the guts to put this to your head… And would anything matter if you’re already dead?
And now should I be shocked by the last thing you said? Before I pull this trigger,
Your eyes vacant and stained… And in saying you loved me, made things harder at best, and these words changing nothing as your body remains,
and there’s no room in this hell, there’s no room in the next, and our memories defeat us, and I’ll end this direst.
One day, I realized he might not exist. My soulmate, I mean.
I realized there might not be someone walking around this earth just waiting to meet me. Someone with a private world just as intricate as mine that, one day, I would get to share and be a part of and know.
And I realized I was keeping a vacant spot in my heart for this person who might not exist. That I wasn’t allowing myself to be whole because how could I be whole with my other half missing?
I miss you. Like hell.
Even that you never stayed away from me, there was always the fear that you commit fraud to my love. And now I realize that my heart deserves an explanation. I do not regret doubting, questioning your loyalty and even the way you look. And now the bitter future is me, I’ll be always there; cause well, I do not want to miss you.
I can’t pretend that I know what love means, neither how it dies. I lost control, everything around me goes on but doesn’t move. Maybe this was real love, too late we realized about what we had and lost. I’ve wasted so many years my love. I wouldn’t like this to be my conclusion.
Sometimes I think I have felt everything I’m ever gonna feel. And from here on out, I’m not gonna feel anything new. Just lesser versions of what I’ve already felt.
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I write about you because I can’t have you. On paper, your heart is mine.
I work, I study, I read, I listen to music, I paint, I talk, I meet friends, I ride my bike, I go on a walk, I drive around in a car, I go to the cinema, I drink, I smoke, I write. But I am never nearly busy enough not to think about you.
I loved him I loved him I loved him. I still love him. I love him.
You think your days are uneventful, and no one ever thinks about you. You think your days are ordinary, and no one ever thinks about you. But we’re all the same, and she can hardly breathe without you.
I don’t know your thoughts these days.
We’re strangers in an empty space.
I don’t understand your heart,
It’s easier to be apart.
He makes me weak, He makes me smile, He makes me cry, He makes me love him, He makes me hate him, He makes me happy, He makes me sad. And still, I can’t get him out of my fucking mind.
I want to believe in someone, I want to believe in something, I want to believe that I can love again.
¿What’s the point of having me at your feet?  If my today, my tomorrow lost the battle of your yesterday.
Out of time
All out of fight
You are the only thing in life that I’ve got right.
I can’t sleep, my eyes refuse to close cause that’s the only way I can hear your voice.
I miss you. I miss us. I like to think that maybe someday, we will try again.
It’s like I’m ready to leave, and go away, and the you come back and drag me once again. I’m getting tired, Fucking hurts but I fucking Love it.