You’re used to be the sweetest piece of candy, The most exotic gem, the brightest color. You’re used to be you and I’m not used to that. I simply cannot … Continue reading I’m not it
You’re used to be the sweetest piece of candy, The most exotic gem, the brightest color. You’re used to be you and I’m not used to that. I simply cannot … Continue reading I’m not it
Como cuando alcanzas las páginas de respeto al final de un buen libro, o empiezan a rodar los créditos del último capítulo de tu serie favorita, nace un sentimiento de … Continue reading En otra vida
You’re in love with written words but you don’t know the sack that drags these bones.
Even the words coming out of this whiskey smelling mouth, as wise as they might sound, differ from what you dream of.
And you love the “you“ portrayed in every page because it describes a beauty you didn’t know resided in you.
So you might never meet the hand that commands the pen, nor will you contemplate the mind that possesses the hand, but you must embrace the muse that lives within you, for is the muse who inspires the mind.