"For you don't want something special you want love. Everyone's special at its own but not everyone gives love" Once told me a friend named like me. He was so right. To see you breaks my heart. Oh, how much I want to protect you, do I love you already? What is this feeling? Should I feel?, should I protect myself from you? Should I reveal to you how vulnerable am I when it comes to this good-tasting poison called love? I can't just hurt you like that. She's sweet, she's bitter, she's bittersweet. She can hurt me, she can love me, she can hate me, she can like me. She can kiss my lips all day and I wouldn't mind. She's the poetry I don't write, she's the poetry I live. She's there and I'm here. Why am I so attracted to what has hurt me before? She's a love language and I'm a romance language. Can this co-exist? Will I ever love you strongly? Will I ever forget how does it makes me feel to remember what we don't wanna talk about? How's that you still matter to me? How's come to me still wanting to explore your body and feel your perfume? How our worlds collides and makes an apocalypse for those who lives in our hearts, for those who wouldn't stand to see us together. Don't you think that I will ever forget...
For All That She Matters... (Draft) by E.G
ESTÁS LEYENDO
El baúl de las cartas perdidas
NouvellesEscritos de amor, drama y tragedia son los que componen ésta pequeña obra literaria. Cuando los reyes pierden sus hijas y el oro, cuando su amor era artificial, los angeles en las calles que luchan por tu corazón, cuando le escribes cartas a ella de...
