…tired…

…tired…
One is the loneliest number.
+ Three dog night +
As I walked holding your hand all my life faded away. After that, I sat and stared at you, while you quaffed my blod, as you softly whispered my name, as you wildly though slowly killed me. All the sublime memories were stained by the tears I cried for both of us, as you were never able to cry.
And I bled and you drank.
I also cried while you laughed.
I screamed.
Yet, you remained silent.
Then you left, and took my soul with you, hidden in your shoes
where you used to keep you money.
“My soul is at your feet, probably forgotten by you”.
Slowly, my salty tears became blood. And now I’m dry inside. I yelled my lungs out so you wouldn’t forget that my sad little soul was still attached to the sole of your shoe like a piece of toilette paper.
I’m scared, for my soul stuck in your sole.
Soundtrack: Lo ha visto con otra, Malevaje, Amores de estudiante, Madreselva (Carlos Gardel)
Wow, that’s depressing.
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