Ask me what hurts. I wish I could answer you. I would like my soul to hurt, but I don't feel that one either.
But I miss your touches, I miss your hands on my body, your words on my soul, your breath on my lips, those eyes that could see through me, the memories left by you in my dreams. It hurts me the whole future for which I had no more pages. My past is full of beautiful memories. It hurts me the way you stripped my body of clothes and my soul of regrets.
I didn't know how to offer in pieces. Hell, I offered what I didn't have. I would have sold my soul to see you happy, I would have knelt my dreams just to give you wings. You were breaking my soul as your hands trembled on the chisel and I was smiling just so you wouldn't see how much it hurts.
Baby cheap choices pay dearly. I thought with my soul and I paid with all my being. I don't know what it means not to feel deep. Even that emptiness in my soul I feel in the cry of the bones. In the end, I couldn't look at you the same way. Not even I was the same. My dreams flew everywhere, my soul had fled, the smile was the only one that saved an apparent fairy of happiness… I felt my ribs crack with pain. How could a feeling hurt his body so much?
I learned that when I collapse I put on my heels and parade on the hot asphalt. I learned that when people look at me I smile indifferently. I learned that when I feel like taking my heels down and running as far as I can in the opposite direction. I have learned that when people try to approach me I change my masks so often that I make them run in the opposite direction. I learned to touch the sky without even being able to fly.
I always left when there could not have been a greater disappointment for my soul. I always left when there was only ash left in the castle. I always left when I knew I had no reason to ever return.
