You can tell how much you love me
You can be all I wish, all I ask
We have a past together
But you're not meaning the words
I can't tell why but it's all so frightning
I'm not suposed to care
But your eyes shine so much in the night
Is it your tears or your smile?
Is it your hapiness or your rudness?
I can't have a way to know you
Then again, the radio's on
The music plays and you're not there anymore
I take a deep breath and thank God
You left me and I love this path
It's just that...
...
Your words it's all too loud
In my brain it's ringing bells
I can't go without saying goodbye
Tomorrow, today but I rather
If you went yesterday
So this is the end, it was a long time ago
I'm feeling like I'm you
I'm feeling today's sunrise and I love me
Arrogance will be the key
The thorn, the master piece
I'm spining, hanging and staying still
Are you there, in the world or have you
Just loked yourself on my mind?
Be honest with me, have you gone to the sky?
Will you bring me a star, the most shining dust
And put it on my wall
So I don't have to fear black anymore?
Your my conscience, your my Wingiel
Leave me alone and come back when I'm feelingless.
DR
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A black flower and a red one . . . their separated seeds were carried by the wind. They saw the world confused and adapted to it the best they could. The treaded though forests and lakes and swamps, they climbed mountains, they dived onto the sea, they flew over vast white plains. Then, one day, they meet each other. Their confusion turned into wander, their adaptation into consequence. The emptiness, the search and the confusion, but also their total freedom, had reached an end as they chose to dig into the earth and grow into plants together in the same space.
ResponderExcluirThey share the sun in their leaves. They entwine the land in their roots. They caress each other bodies in a colorful bloom of blood and night, showing all the nocturnal side of beauty. Then, as time passes and situations arise, they start to grow differently. They develop themselves away from each other and, little by little, they mature further away and further away. Their space, their sun, their wind is not their own but from each other once more.
Their past makes them fight this new painful reality. They don’t want to redraw all their dreams and rewrite all their thought future. They don’t want to face each other's absence. They don’t remember what’s like to be alone anymore. They fear solitude and the empty freedom she gives. As they wrestle with themselves, they wrestle with each other and their separations grows and grows and grows and grows. On the brink of the bearable they unroot themselves, wither away, and follow their, once again, separated, liberated and unaccompanied path.
...
Sometimes, in the night, in the gloomy dark of a drained room, she watches, with moist eyes, with no eyes to see her, their scarred past, their broken dreams and the forgotten hope that some day she can live again.