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Sunday 21 February 2010 photo 13/37
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I listened tonight to a song through my floor.
A song about a girl who got a big broken heart ....
She had met a guy who held her dear.
And they were happy for a while.
But all he seemed like, was to give the girl a broken heart.
All he wanted to to see her get a big pain.
How can you be so cruel? How can you do something like that?
But when I later sat down and thought, a thought struck me.
I am the girl. That song is not at all came through my floor.
The song comes from my indre, who tries to tell you something.
With my hands on my face because I do not want to cry, they do hurt.
With the breath that feels like a thousand knives through my lungs.
I feel the creeping at my indre that something is wrong.
Something my indre says has a meaning.
But how could this have happened?
For, of course I love you so, and can not live without you.
If I'm going to stop my tears, I have to finish our then?
Would they get a hope in me?
If I stop talking to you, the knife would go away then?
I would like to ask you, would like to talk.
But you do not want to answer, or even talk.
Why, what are the ones I have made thee?
Do not know how long my little I can do this!
A song about a girl who got a big broken heart ....
She had met a guy who held her dear.
And they were happy for a while.
But all he seemed like, was to give the girl a broken heart.
All he wanted to to see her get a big pain.
How can you be so cruel? How can you do something like that?
But when I later sat down and thought, a thought struck me.
I am the girl. That song is not at all came through my floor.
The song comes from my indre, who tries to tell you something.
With my hands on my face because I do not want to cry, they do hurt.
With the breath that feels like a thousand knives through my lungs.
I feel the creeping at my indre that something is wrong.
Something my indre says has a meaning.
But how could this have happened?
For, of course I love you so, and can not live without you.
If I'm going to stop my tears, I have to finish our then?
Would they get a hope in me?
If I stop talking to you, the knife would go away then?
I would like to ask you, would like to talk.
But you do not want to answer, or even talk.
Why, what are the ones I have made thee?
Do not know how long my little I can do this!
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