Vacío.

Esa presión constante en el pecho, me agobia, es horrible, no la aguanto. Nunca desaparece y me presiona, contra el suelo, me corta la respiración. Solo se va cuando estoy contigo. Te quiero, lo sabes, te necesito. No lo entiendes. Me atraes hacia ti cada vez más y haces que dependa de ti. Depender de ti como nunca dependía de nadie. Me haces sentir viva y no andar jodida, deprimida, muerta en vida. Consigues lo que nadie consigue, hacerme sonreir. Eres un vicio. Cuando estoy contigo se para el tiempo, y es perfecto. Me quitas las fuerzas. Eres tan diferente, y es increible que con un puto 'idiota, 'Aleee' o cualquier cosa así. Bueno, que lo que siento por ti es demasiado fuerte. No creo que funcione eso de olvidarte ni nada. Creo que solo queda estar jodida, como hasta ahora, quizá algún día te des cuenta de quién vale la pena y quién mataría por ti. Espero que no leas esto nunca.

Sólo sabía gritar, gritar para sacar todo,
para que así el vacío que tenía disimulase,
para que el dolor se fuese.
Pero nada, no se iba, ni dejándome
la garganta se iba.

Ride II

I was always an unusual girl. My mother told me i had a chamaleon soul, no moral compass pointing dou north, no fixed personality, just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as waveringas the ocean... And it i said i didn't plan for it to turn our this way i'd be lying... Because i was born to be the other woman.
Who belonged to one, who belonged to everyone.
Who had nothing, who wanted everything, with a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that i couldn't even talk about it, and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me.

Ride.

I was in a winter of my life, and the met i met along the road were my only summer. At night i fell asleep with visions of my self, dancing and laughing  and crying with them. Three years down the line of being on a endless world tour, and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me, and my only real happy times. I was a singer, not a very popular once. I once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet, but upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that i wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken.
But i didn't really mind because i knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted, and then losing to know what true freedom is.
When the people used to know found out what i had been doing, how i'd been living, they asked me why, but there's not use in talking to people who have home.
They not have idea what it's like to seek safety in other people, for home, to be wherever you lay your head.

Cause you and i, were born to die.

Everything is fine but i wish i was dead.

Que cariño, mis manos siguen siendo tuyas, si, continúan escribiendote. Que hay besos que me vuelven loca y besos solo quiero tuyos. No te pido una eternidad, no te pido un infinito ni esas mierdas, te pido que me quieras, una relación sincera, sin más.