Source
My words are not literal, they are the ones that hurt me with a pain identical to yours, the ones that fragment in my soul and that will end up burning in your dreams?
Those that in the depths of your eyes want to show themselves in the light of my poems with the subtle clarity of the moon in the blessed savannahs of the Carangano without asking many questions;
To accept them as truth is impossible, you never find them interesting, or they don't belong to me because I haven't made possession of them in some alphabet.
I don't want to write you about me as if I were a prophet trying to get you out, it would be an irresponsibility of my feelings.
These words don't even belong to the epigraphs that hide behind my insomnias trying to wait for you in the twilights, those magnificent somnambulists that compete with the dawn of my dawns; instead, they hide in the semicolons of the asterisks in the asterisks of the asterisks of the asterisks. of the asterisks in the suspensives...
The sweet noun that is capable of having me die of love in your hands without you noticing.
So are my words, or my loves expressed in verses, and, although I know, that they are being watched I write them without scruples and because I forgot the metaphors that have their advantages, you were not waiting for them at the door of your hope that does not want to resist my disconsolation in a nightmare, or because on the way back I stumbled upon you in memories.
Congratulations @jairosegura! You have completed the following achievement on the Hive blockchain And have been rewarded with New badge(s)
Your next target is to reach 1500 upvotes.
You can view your badges on your board and compare yourself to others in the Ranking
If you no longer want to receive notifications, reply to this comment with the word
STOPCheck out our last posts: