quarta-feira, 14 de março de 2012


A whole new cloud of smoke enters the room. I watch it fade away until I make a new one. One after another, I realise I can't stop. Those little tubes of pleasure don't take the pain away, but somehow they seem to calm her down for a while. That's why I can't stop, the pain will go back, the tears will start running again. I prefer to hold quiet and pretend I'm just tired than showing the world my true feelings. It is too hard to explain my sadness; hearing the story will only make it more real and it hurts, it hurts knowing that my heart is broken, that it was broke by someone who didn't even think twice about breaking it.. But what hurts the most is knowing that that person made me feel alive once upon a time, made my heart beat. And then.. The pain is back. I light up another cigarette and finally pleasure, peace.