She would be cruel to me -ever since childhood, when we met. She would say love was a lie, would say,
Then again, whenever morning came, He would walk in and wipe those shameless tears off my face with a limp hand and tender voice. He would say love existed; would say happiness was true...
Unlike Her, He could not explain himself, which somehow worked as the basis of the difference between both statements, as well as the reason why He was able to renew my weakened faith almost instantly. Somehow. Anyhow. Hence, though He would never smile openly, anything He would say, I was always willing to believe.
However, today He said, one must never believe everything one is told. And I wonder, whether good times always come to an end.
Alice rests on the bed next to mine, a single word caught in her throat. She is fighting it, needless to say. Struggling. It's written on Her lips, a cold cry dieing down to a whimper.
(liar)
I get up, walk towards, jump over Her. It's not me She struggles against, so I feel, and this time tears won't win me over. Her lips are dry, not surprisingly, and it takes a few seconds for Her to give in.What... are you doing?
No way I can possibly repress the urge to giggle before such astonishment.
Showing you love, you silly thing
2 comentarios:
I remained without words.
This post is beautiful.
Pretty, pretty, indeed.
You know that words are the castle, don't you?
Publicar un comentario