Lunes, Setyembre 8, 2014

Whispers on the 7th



Life is 
rhg;yn48 r34123@~&^(&WEdsfkyncywidgcwjsgbdjfcns
 \pdi2u0946x43781 3 rfebuhdsjcvluyejgrn92p
dnkfnhiejcfjeu[3q2i349057465nmns

dilhfnxjfdkgbvimasd;lcjxdoi;fmxcq0884n4jkyfn 
98dsoc ht3pi5i ; l3r024yc9 7pyhewr89ihwe4k6nbkg 
fd,90 
]qO-2EC1H5O4UY698E[UJ. 

k rwek45fycnw7i34o54373n873534iyrheiutyieruth
j0457456t45kjybjtrg-srji34qbewofnd 
c89mrohc4wjkrhc0w48975cf89367-01859wjt8i;
andtoofuckingconfusingtounderstandreally.


So lie to me.

Lie to me as I lie to myself.
Say something wrong. Say something right.
Pour out words as bittersweet as these precious moments.

Lie to me.

Lie to me as you lie next to me,
As you hold me close, let me embrace you more.
As you gently caress, let me touch your soul.

Lie to me.
Lie to me this once as I hold you in my hands
and drink in your presence, your scent,
the softness of your shirt, the beating of your heart.

Lie.
Lie as oft as this clock 
whose time is right 
twice a day.

Lie.
I've got nothing to lose
but the nonexistence of us
anyway.


“Much unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid.” 
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky