How and Why

"I will not tell you my sad aa who cause ..."

I said that long ago (not so), and it is complicated.

We humans, at a certain age begin to load the heart between the hands, not in the chest, strange behavior, strange place, I guess it is fear, loaded with both hands palms up together by the sides, one red shell intense, if you will fix it you would realize that it is all cracked, but still beating. The well loaded, as this very carefully stupidly walked cobbled streets and half dark with raised eyebrows and an expression of who spent a tremendous shock and a half ago, the error, I think, at this stage of my journey (and begin to dawn) is that we walk with your hands busy and looking at the content (misplaced) in our hands, when we should put in place and hope that there in that bowl in the chest, can heal itself without what we're looking at, leave it to free the arms, hands, fingers, but especially the eyes, the eyes ... the soul.

The streets will be paved for bringing loading or dark heart in the chest, more broken and scared you are ... We would have to spend just a peek, lightweight quick examination of judge, verdict: "survive, all hearts do!" Deep breath and get the map that one day we throw away to have their hands full at the waist of someone. I still say that the problem is "my" badges to put people possessive ruins everything, do as if we had bought a dog and then not let us leave the house because you have to take care of and obviously, neither let them out, we are not going to lose, who would not have stolen a dog ...

I was not afraid, at least not as I've always preferred planes Fanning (sometimes without knowing if my parachute open), I have always opted for the free flight just to see the landscape from above, where I can not smell it, where could try, always, when I fall down, hit and miss those smells hurts, yes, yours, and those flavors ... yes ... yours, curiously full of hit me like two emotions: anger, sadness = attachment / not understand. And then I hate you but I love you more than ever ...

What do I do? Now? scream in silence (as usual), I die in the powerlessness of wanting to strangle you with my love, drown with my kiss, acribillarte with my looks, that. Y. .. carefully, tooodo care about my palms on my chest still bleeding and squaring the triangle again to fit between, say, if there was!, would have to fit ... anyway seems smaller, a little smaller ... But he blames that I have shared this continent, itself, was not only yours, I have been delivering bits to many people and I hope there's going to save, in a container.

Your heart is like they say it is the liver? What is regenerated? If it was the liver? If it was your heart? Hands, wet, oh yes, I was just in the wrong place ...



V.

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