Monday, December 24, 2012
Black bird inside my chest
But I have a Christmas tree that I set myself and I'll cook dinner for 3 of my best friends. And I'm alive. Who would've thought that? Another year. I've made it. Last month was a very close call. Very close. I'm growing scare of my time coming to an end and at the same time I feel too tired to keep going. But I am alive. And I'm made of flesh and warm blood. And someone just touched this wretched body of mine. These burning tears. I don't want to go. I want to touch other bodies and maybe one day forget the empty space between my arms. And then maybe I'll be able to sleep in peace.
Publicado por IRENE ADLER en 3:26 pm