I would write to you about pain. I'd like to explain how to avoid it. The bad part? You can not. Sooner or later you will still feel your knees being cut in half, a universe will still collapse, you will still kill a soul.
I was sick of you. Now I don't care who leaves or who comes. I lost you, who was my universe and as you can see I am still well and alive. I always came back. Always to what I loved. By no means who did he love me for? I will never be the same. I don't even want to be the way I used to be. I will sometimes miss the naive face, with innocent dreams and a happy soul.
Nobody knows how I cried one night. Nobody knows why. I'm not sure either. Had I lost you? You were gone a long time ago. Had I finally given up? I never found the way out. Had I lost myself? I was changed in thousands of ways. All I know is that I was smiling at you and trying not to collapse. That box called the elevator had become too small. The silence burned my eardrums. Deaf tears could not find their way. My eyes sec and my soul… and my lips were dry… I couldn't feel anything anymore and I didn't have air. I also lost my crystal ball. The last shield before capitulation.
You have lost feelings of numb lips, now, of pain. You lost tears and in the end you picked up a smile of everything we could have been.
