I feel blue... or maybe green...

How come the day after day become an old cheap unfunny movie?

How come your deepest wounds supure things you never knew where they came from?

Easy comes... easy goes...

Hard comes... easy goes...

The skin in my fingers gets driyer and rougher, my eyes lack of tears, smells are just memories, my lips adicted to water that never even start moistening them...

Something is calling and I don't know what it is...

It voice cryies in agony with an unknown language...

There's no wind and even thoght I cannot be sure where it comes from...

Gaia, mother earth, tries to grab my roots as they bleed in pain.

The sun won't let me see and tries to rip my eyes off my skull.

Oh, no, they won't if I don't let them...

I'm still here.

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Wow, no se de donde salio eso, espero que haya más :D

por que en inglés? no se... parece q uno no elije ciertas cosas... creo q es la primera vez q escribo en ingles...