Apr 7, 2013
The sound of hooves, trotting along the pavement of my heart, breaking it with every step and every breath. It’s just like glass breaking, or the silence of a moment in which you watch as a butterfly has its wings slowly picked off by a naïve child. Nobody notices the red curls of the little boy with glowing silver eyes, but they notice as their chubby little fingers, takes away the legs, the heart and soul of a beautiful butterfly; whose life is already to be written as a short mission. Yet everyone ignores real beauty, for they cannot bare the image of flaws, sawn into stars of perfection.
