And if I tell me that my answer was a stroke, that my beauty was a beast, and my happyness was a turpitude. And if I tell me that my dreams were threats, and my believes were foolishnees, and my love was a betrayal. And if I tell me that my blood was sand, that my words were poison. And if I tell me that I was not me. And now? What can I tell me?
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário