you know that haunting stuff that sticks to your bones? the kind that taps into those deep soul diggings that we forget to see?
gatsby and the way he loved her is tattooed on my brain. i remember being loved like that, when i loved like that. when it didn't make sense but that was the point.
i keep listening to those words:
"will you still love me when i've got nothing but my aching soul?"
my soul's covered in ache & it wants to be loved. i miss mornings full of groggy grins & bare skin & arms that wrap me in safe. i miss empty bottles & gooey rememberings & midnight swaggers. i miss having hands that are mine & a heart that doesn't have to ask & eyes that don't have to see.
have you ever worried you lost it? that 'it' that makes you able to dream of just those two hands & just that one heart & both those eyes, and it's enough? i worry my scars are stacking & numb is growing and no one will ever be enough. or maybe it's upside-down & my numb makes me and the stacked scars too much.
i guess it's just that human sort of thing. my crazy will pass.
preocupado de perder a esa persona ke significo tanto y la vez significo nada, preocupado de ke no vere nunca mas a esa persona ni la persona ke llevo dentro de ella nunca , preoucpado de haber tenido todo solucion en mis ojos y no verla , el ciego es ciego y no abre lo ojos hasta ke ve un rayo de luz entrar, , el corazon piensa ke cierra los caminos , pero siempre existe el camino a ese amor , es loko este corazon de saber de ke no tiene lo ke tuvo , pero sonrie solo el leer lo ve porke no puede ni sentir ni mira lo ke tuvo antes y lo dejo perder...
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