"I was left with nothing but novels about you, novels written full of love in my heart, blinded by the promises you made, all the words you spoke and the looks you showed me, filled with all the hopes and desires you once awakened in me, filled with all the colours you gave to the world, but now I look at the reality, the black, winding lines on the cracked paper seem like a fable, untrue and beautiful, but if you only knew how often I lose myself in those very words and block out how black and drenched in darkness you have drawn the walls of reality, forget the pain that rages within me and lose myself in the smile of times long past, lose myself in your voice that promises me eternity, lose myself in the images of your eyes, as beautiful as the stars of a foreign galaxy and as deep and unfathomable as the vast unexplored ocean that are described again and again in the novels about you so incredibly precise and you never so perfect, they are too incredible, too beautiful to ever be captured [again] in any meaningless words, your eyes and also your smile, something that can really just make everything disappear, described in a multitude of words that can never begin to capture the depth of meaning of each and every smile, described in words of so much language and with the interpretation of so many masters of the art of words and yet never enough for the beauty of yours can never be captured and captivated in the words that exist on this earth and beyond the galaxies at this time but should you ever try you will never find a word that even begins to fit, trapped in the soft warm fire of your touch that once gave me warmth and safety and now burns me, but I would give anything to be burnt by those flames one more time and feel the pain that healed me and at the same time shattered me like a mirror on the cliff, but I never thought that this fire would set me on fire so much that nothing remained of the walls of my heart but a sooty emptiness where once bright colours marked everyday life, but as soon as I lift my eyes from the lines, the pain that now continues to beat down on me seems so surreal, unbelievable if you believe the words written on paper, unbelievable because the person I wrote about seemed different from the one who destroyed my world, so I ask was the person I wrote about someone who doesn't exist, a fairy tale prince from the stories I read in the novels about you? "
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RandomTW Das hier ist wahrscheinlich nichts für Menschen, denen es psychisch nicht gut geht, die mit Depression, Ängsten oder irgendwas in dieser Richtung zu tun haben! Großteils sind es Gedanken und Situation, Texte die aus dem Moment heraus entstehen...
