04
Nov 05
The sun is hidden by the clouds.
I hear a rough noise in the distance,brought to me by the friendly wind.
If only it could rain.If only the rain could wash away this pain.
It is summer. Three long months of sunshine, hope and laughter, too much happiness for me to bare.
I want to feel a storm, as a mirror of my soul.
Where are you, my sunshine?
Why does happiness run away to be with you, when you are never near?
I envy the days that are yours, 24 hours that belong just to you. Why are you so far away from me?
Why do i feel the need to tell you what my heart feels, when it seems like you don't even hear it?
t hurts so much i don't feel pain anymore.
I've cried so hard i don't have anything to cry for, anymore.
I love you so much i feel it doesn't make sense anymore.
With a contradiction, i am not alone.
I have a partner, who's soul is as dark as mine.
Just as a reflection in some old dusty mirror.
He sleeps. I don't. I can't close my eyes, because darkness, even though it's my allie, makes me feel claustrophobic, enclausured in my worst fears.
And then i remember.
I remember why it is i'm far away from you.
I remember all that was spoken, i remember the angst of hiddingthe tears demanding to fall freely, i remember the cover i chose to myself, that made me look strong.
I remember every single expression in your face.
So, left here on my own (He sleeps), i write. Long pages of words without a meaning, i write and write and write some more.
The pen and papper are the companions i chose to walk with me, in this journey to my soul.
It's a journey of a dead poet.
Let me die, and bring me back to life.
publicado por JayneMars às 12:57

3 comentários:
olá joana. gostaria mto de falar em inglês, mas nunca tive possibilidades (económicas...) de o aprender. cláudia????!!!!!!
frederico (o no irmo), o do jornal a 14 de Novembro de 2005 às 00:44

and bring me back to life????? ja te chamava evanescense ou lá o que é... porra evanescence é o cócó é o gotico das gajas de 13 anos, ok tu tns 13 anos mas nao tens de gostar de rabanadas... merda agora perdi-me... acontece muito isso e outras coisas, mas outras coisas nao é tanto, é menos... ora entao um grande bem haja
Insolente a 8 de Novembro de 2005 às 16:50

Caredo mãe, que coisa mái deprimenteee!! Eu já sou depressiva por Natureza, então a ler estas desgraças...jiza crái! Beijinhos, as melhoras *;o).
Su a 6 de Novembro de 2005 às 01:09

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