A Narradora
- Juliana
- Estudante de Biologia, escritora e desenhista meia-boca nas horas vagas. Odeio cebola, acordar cedo e ficar muito tempo sem ter o que fazer. Na maioria das vezes sou quieta demais e prefiro continuar desse jeito. E sim, meu cérebro às vezes tem lag, problemas com interpretações múltiplas, vontade própria e está atualmente seriamente comprometido por um certo homem de covinhas.
sexta-feira, 14 de maio de 2010
Words to no one
Hey, you.
You don’t know my name, never heard of me. Never even knew I existed. Never saw my eyes, never got a glimpse of my smile. No voice, no sounds. No touch.
Maybe I’m just one more. Another one. Someone like many others that will just lie here with nothing but hope.
A hope that refuses to fade away. A hope that I tried so many times to rip off me, but it just doesn’t come out. A hope that other times someone else tried to get rid of, and I didn’t let them.
And I didn’t because, for some reason, I need it. Just like I need you.
I need to see your smile and realize everything is gonna be ok, even if it’s from a picture on my computer.
I need to hear your words so I can believe in what is left of me. Because somehow you make me believe.
I need to read you story times and times again when I cry. And I’ll cry even more, with a smile in my face and less worries in my head.
But I do hate you.
I hate it when you are so perfect that’s even unfair. You could pretend just once you’re not nice. Just like normal people do.
I hate the way your dimples make me smile when I don’t want to. When I’m pissed off. When I wanna get mad at you for some reason, even knowing you’ll never care because you’ll never know.
I hate it when you are so kind. You get me believing that humanity can be like you, when, deep inside, I know it’s not that true.
I hate that I would give anything to hug you and my anything doesn’t seem to be anything enough. And I hate that maybe I’ll never get the chance to tell you that.
And I hate even more that I don’t care.
I don’t care at all.
I don’t care I’m no one. I don’t care I’m far away from you and I don’t care people think I’m crazy.
I don’t care I can’t even translate what I’m feeling into words, I don’t care about how miserable I feel sometimes for being so frustrated with all this.
It hurts loving you, and I just don’t care.
It hurts even more that it doesn’t matter I need, I hate, I don’t care or I love.
My words will never get to you.
They will actually get to no one.
-
Assinar:
Postar comentários (Atom)
0 comentários:
Postar um comentário