Para Que

I will not tell my sadness to whom the cause that said long ago (not both), and is that it is complicated. We humans, at a certain age began to load the heart between the hands, no longer in the chest, strange behavior, strange place, guess is fear, charge, with both hands palms up on all sides, a shell deep red, if you noticed you well you give account that of all crackled, but still beating. Charge him as well, according to this very carefully, stupidly, we walked through streets paved and half dark with raised eyebrows and expression of one who spent a tremendous scare makes time and media, error, I think, at this point of my walk (already begins to dawn) is that we walk with busy hands and looking (misplaced) content of our hands, when should put in place and trust that therein that Bowl in the chest, can heal only, without that we are looking at it, leave it there to let free the arms, hands, fingers, but especially the gaze, the eyes the soul. Streets won’t be cobbled or obscure by bring charging the heart in the chest, by more broken and scared to be would have to devote only a peek, rapid examination of judge light, verdict: will it survive, all hearts do!, take a deep breath and get the map that would one day throw away by your hands occupied at the waist of someone. I’m saying that the problem is the my put badges with possessive people it ruins everything, we do as if we had bought us a dog and then not let us leave the House because you have to take care of it and obviously, nor leave it out, we will not lose, not a dog has been stolen who I had no fearat least not so much, always preferred to tossing the aircraft (sometimes without knowing if my parachute will open), I have always opted for the free flight to only view the landscape from above, where not I can smell it, where it could not prove it, always, when I fall to the ground, the blow hurts and I miss those smells, Yes, yours, and those flavors yes yours, curiously hit me full of two emotions alike: courage, sadness = attachment/do not understand. And then I hate you but I love you more than ever that what do I do? now? cry in silence (as often), I die in the impotence of wanting to hang you with my tenderness, drown you with my kisses, peppering you with my looks, these. And with all care, care tooodo, I approached my palms to my chest still bleeding and busco squaring the triangle to be able to fit it again, I say, if I was there!, he would have to return to fit all modes seems smaller, a little smaller but attributed that I shared this continent, Yes, not only has been yoursI’ve been delivering bits to many people, and I hope there are keeping them in any box. Is the heart as they say that it is the liver? that is regenerated? Yes was the liver? Yes it was the heart? Between hands, wet, ah yes, is that it was in the wrong place V. 13595564-8A4C-D910-BC1C-FAB708133697 1.03.