It's such a dull spectacle the humankind. Everybody wearing masks and makeup, faking smiles and peals of laughter, but at the end of the day, when the sun comes down, and the sham falls, how do they feel? I'd be claustrophobic to put-on a happy face that's not mine and act as if you have never been part of my story. It was not platonic, the connection, affection, addiction we shared. And i know that it's not that laudatory poem to make grace o' you, my dearest. I wish I could tell you how much I miss you, love you, care about you. I'll never hear that nasty noise of the pans in the sunday mornings, nor I'll hear you blaming me for leaving the light turned-on all day long. Oh, my dearest, they want me to play a happy girl, living her life, as if she has never experienced love, as if she has never lost the love of her life. How can I, love?
myheartisonmars
