I think that the nightmares where I lose you are just God's ways of preparing me for the inevitabile of the real world that will come one day, when I, indeed, will have to let you go.
I let you before, cutted loose, but always looked back. I will ask God to blindfold me like you used to do in out bedroom, where out bodies collided in that neverending pleasurable torment. But not to crave you more like you wanted me to, as I seek your breath and touch and the soul I will always recognise even when my eyes can't lay to catch a glimpse of your flesh, but to set you free as now we are bonded to each other coruptibly, just halfway. Free from the one that I could have sworn loved you without any expectancies, and that hopes the women in your future will love you at least as much as I do, my beautiful almost.
You taught me the similarities between forever and almost in the game we used to play, my lover. You were the almost I would have searched forever as forever I will be always almost there having you, just to lose you in the end. What a beautiful twisted game you learned me as I showed to you how I, both dark and pure scattered at your feet the most raw and virgin part in me - the one that just once in its life could love, just for you to walk on it without mercy, making my devotement profane.
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Something I can't tell
PoesíaI don't know why I wrote a fricking long poem and at this moment I am afraid to ask myself because I wouldn't like the answer. Hopefully, "Something I can't tell" won't turn into a sequel because someone should check if I am still myself and not som...
