In death and love the record does not trump happiness, and it is no use trying countless times you do not have to come now. She tries to get her to me, but then tries to reach death. I do not know which one is more uncomfortable purposes, nor what can be achieved first, as lying in the darkness of my walls corroded the notice so helpless that even the final collapse seems impossible. -Kill me - tell me when I go with simplicity.
so stupid and cautious, try to know what you mean by its simplicity.
- How do you want to kill you?
I do not know, just kill me "he says.
Death can be a kiss or a powder. However, I do not know how to kill her and give her a kiss just dusty, with captivating grams starting your palate and finish digging deep into his nostrils, causing her eyes light up and get lost in the endless black darkness of my walls.
may seem that between the walls and me there is a fixation. But no, much less when they are all that I have felt for years wishes of light that are supplied by its rough texture.
Like many, she is lying down, holding his mental decline, contained in drugs (many would say) but free them, as I think. If only they loved me, could see it as another client, looking at me a release and no support. But not, come to me is an unhealthy habit that robs the beauty of her voice and vitality.
I'm your habit and therefore the thief, she lets me know every time I say "kill me" because I realize I am only able to steal for pieces remove the substance and not pit the vitality that keeps my pockets full.
jíbaro How do you feel when a loved one? Who is she? My client, my sweetheart, my vicious? Is it me or is it his vice dust, or is it my dust, or are both? I am nothing, I'm just the twilight of a face that one day he saw and the echo of a voice that enters without permission to set his work.
- Would you kill? - Ask first. I do not see, only hear it, but I think I look, it has for months and today it is important to do so.
"No
If noise is not surprising stormed increasingly impertinent, perhaps it would have killed her. Now breaks new one, of many who were keeping her and I move forward, she loves me more and I even come to desire again.
- Shut up pack of bastards! Do not annoy me, I did not pursue - cry in the corner.
-Kill him first, "she says she passive.
- Why?
-order I die quietly.
- And if not - he replied.
"And if not, kill me and go, making time I'm asking.
Avarice dulls the man and kill is not an easy task. I ask for the money he has in his pocket in order to fulfill his wish and let her die in peace. Volume 20 grams, put them in their hands and I hope his death. I do not want to dirty my hands with an addict, but also keep hearing that chant that repeats calling for a boost of mercy.
"You're a Birdbrain," she whispers in his ear in anger-I do not want to kill me coca, I wish for you to kill me.
never understood what he wanted to "Bala, dagger, love? None of that could give him.
- Why do not you kill yourself? - Ask again.
She shut up and stretched his hands towards me. His fingernails long and cold and I Rosan hair falling freely through my ears and neck with the slight resistance offered me goose bumps. My pores are dilated, the beauty of my arms up in unison and I feel that the brain wants to get out of my head warm.
How can something as cold as your hands can produce instant heat? I do not know. While I think the nails crude continues to fall and land on my abdomen. A finger swinging up and down a capusles open air in my stomach trying to escape the game of your nails and down my chest to escape with a sigh.
hacelo "Now you," she says, removing his hands from me.
- What?
-Touch
Without hesitation, and driven by his previous provocations feel your breasts. However, the only thing I get from it is a shamefaced laugh. I think my immediate mocks, my animals, but it is not.
- What? - I ask confused.
Toccata -yourself-directs me laughing.
- What do you want that? You're crazy.
"Do not ask so much.
dark, she can only see my silhouette. His ears are now a canine acuity. Perhaps hearing my hands my own skin rosando and my clothes are excited. Obey and despair seems that now is on my side. She sends, she ordered, I have nothing to do with that. Since I opened the door and I just want to go.
- How did you feel? - Pit stop me.
"Nothing What did you feel?
"Exactly that. I touch and in two seconds your heart starts to flush blood through the body with three times the speed. Instead you play and you will not feel anything. Is instinctive, animal, basic How expect, then, that something momentous as death, I choose a comparison of masturbation? I want to feel the death of your hands, you kill me and not ask questions Birdbrain.
- But why you want to kill you? - I say to my trachea drowning the words.
"Because you promised me.
When I first saw it, passing in front of where we are now, with the soft face who has not tasted my world, I thought I could share with her some of that darkness that inhabits the daily not submerged in the limbo of lost souls that feed this paradise of people invisible.
Men make the mistake of promising more than the instability of our feelings passengers tend to offer. And she promised me a heaven, the only one who knew and all I could give . She believed, but with each pass over the unattainable sky, less lively, and higher doses are required to scrape the clouds.
The walls seem to understand that there is no way other than to reach the sky that calls me now, and charges for my promises to stop instinctive man, who speaks runaway with the sole purpose of getting moments of joy at the expense of others hope.
However, I fail to fulfill my promise. The woman is no different to others that accompany today. And entered the cave and find the way out the day when their needs exceed the limit of your body, the day of a collapse that now seems unattainable. I just hope intact, mildly affected by their games and psychedelia that voice that bothers my mind every time he pleads with more appetite:
-Matame.
@ rincondesantos
@ rincondesantos
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