Monday, February 7, 2011
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Dying Brown Over Red Hair
not places like rays of sunshine through the window of a jail
I missed, including I do not know which way and I've led you by the hand, I let the emotions stealing upon me, and this time, I have lived the way down, because life is one and people like you is hard to let them go like meeting . It is not easy to tame and as we well know, the rest are made of the usual pasta and this takes us into and that is why I will continue to travel and every place I remember us, and I can not help but think that if you were there, with me, I get excited just the same things, you would notice the same invisible folds instead of a reality that goes unnoticed to most people. Love, you do not know, but I still carry with me the chills of the night, I have sewn them on him like a suit, feel them heavy behind the neck, I can hear them down to the belly, keep me away but I also know that will not be repeated. It 's a war that continues to want to live and learn not to do so. It 's a war in which I am already deployed by the loser. E 'nor a war without truce, nor victory that engulfs me in the face of this clear sky, on this train that comes before you for the umpteenth time, never knowing if it will be the last. With you I felt alone, deserted island, storm, wind, winding, adrenaline, sunlight from the window of a prison. And now, I can almost hear these chills evaporate, rise to the top and then turn into rain metal who will return to slide next to me along the cracks of this window.
I missed, including I do not know which way and I've led you by the hand, I let the emotions stealing upon me, and this time, I have lived the way down, because life is one and people like you is hard to let them go like meeting . It is not easy to tame and as we well know, the rest are made of the usual pasta and this takes us into and that is why I will continue to travel and every place I remember us, and I can not help but think that if you were there, with me, I get excited just the same things, you would notice the same invisible folds instead of a reality that goes unnoticed to most people. Love, you do not know, but I still carry with me the chills of the night, I have sewn them on him like a suit, feel them heavy behind the neck, I can hear them down to the belly, keep me away but I also know that will not be repeated. It 's a war that continues to want to live and learn not to do so. It 's a war in which I am already deployed by the loser. E 'nor a war without truce, nor victory that engulfs me in the face of this clear sky, on this train that comes before you for the umpteenth time, never knowing if it will be the last. With you I felt alone, deserted island, storm, wind, winding, adrenaline, sunlight from the window of a prison. And now, I can almost hear these chills evaporate, rise to the top and then turn into rain metal who will return to slide next to me along the cracks of this window.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
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