Love is an infection that no doctors nor healers can heal, as I wake up every morning thinking that I'm going to meet my one, while inside this infection there's money, argument, affection, intimacy and joy, giving out always seems to be the mandate
Only if living alone in this world would make my life very easy, if only I can close the gap that I have deep within, because I'm always longing for someone to love me in the way the world will not matter to me
When I look down my window, I always see everything I dream about and wish I had, as I woke up in the middle of the night and turn, then I realize I am alone, I've tried reading 365 thinking in one of the pages I will find what is called love, only to realize all the pages are the same, empty promises and false hope
...
Read full text