Scatter. Everything. Bush hurricane caused less damage. He did not touches the soul. The body? Yes traits with him. Mind. There is no. The soul - solid bruises. Not from shocks. From one. Last. Crush. Trampled. Destroy. Making in the non-existence. Pain. Dull pain. Heart? What you. Cold as ice, firmly as granite? No, worse. Knocking, of course. Why? Nonsense. Emptiness. Pieces phrases. A set of words. Scraps of emotions. Distance. Coolness. I do not want to reduce the distance. Let it remain so. Forever? Do not be able to. Why? Stupid to explain. Only you been able to crush the soul. Those bright, beautiful feelings that I could give. Dario you, girl. To become spoilt child. Selfish and accustomed to comfortably imagine. Cynical? No, I do not think about consequences: Love? No, for you is just a game. Allow themselves to love and be surrounded attention. Rake and throw. Find an object in dignity. Do not make a step back. Only forward. This pride. And pride. No, rather pride. Do you feel. You perfectly know when to move and say the word tender. When the press on themselves, and then again alienate. Playing cat-and-mouse. You want this? You like? Def. Only now can I shall cat? Tender rumble? He: hunter, releasing its claws. I doubt? And what do you know about me? Scraps of biographies and outbreaks of emotion? You looked me in the heart? Through my pink glasses, if only. You tried to understand me? Ha-ha! You used to be surrounded attention. You really missed a number of admirable men. And then I hit. Lovers, happy. Ready to defend, giving the opportunity to rely on his shoulder. You’re not one has taken into consideration. Once I had to understand that you do not have anything to me. Passion? The desire to possess? Yes: not original. And so I loved you. Admired and enjoyed you. God, I was quite what you next. Near me. Er-e-e-x: . Break with root. You think that I cry? I am ill and I do not know, what can I do? Do not sleep at night and think about you? All terrible. Wilderness. Ill. There is emptiness inside. Nothing. Deathly. Smells of non-living.. Is it again? Again, nothing to live. It is. Live and warmly hope that one day I would prefer a man who will do the same passion to love me.
