The Witcher breaks into the monotony of my life with a light step. Soft, round shapes, beautiful and awesome, she teases me with her magic wand. He alone can work the miracle. Murmurs arcane formulas of magic and here I am young, beautiful and with the biemmevu. And for good measure with a few more inches of cock that she laughs at marble. But only until midnight, he yells at me joyfully and playfully, before disappearing in a cloud of white smoke. I am dazed to look down when he reaches the threshold of my being. I start the engine and run until I find a house on the edge of the woods. I knock on the door because I know I’ll find a Witcher inside. And in fact the one who opens me is so beautiful that nothing else can be. He welcomes me with a smile and puts his index finger on my lips. Dumb, I stay to watch him undress. he is beautiful without veils and without hesitation, while I realize that I already am. His bed is soft like her hands, like his fluffy hair. His soft lips, the most hidden ones are wet and welcome my desire to let him enter inside of me. I sink into that dream. His eyes know. His eyes strangely resemble those of the Witcher. My Prince is a Witcher. Suddenly I return woke. The door, where is the door? Almost the background in the stampede. just a cold wood. Return to the tree. I am a tree. I run away.


Perhaps, in all these years,
people weren't that cruel
and I didn't need to swallow all that ash
of dull smiles between the lips.

Maybe I didn't notice and left on the street
stumps of missing hugs,
like mournful candlesticks
turned on to my loneliness.

For this I am satisfied
to warm myself with crumbled phoenixes;
and I've spent bland days,
with his mouth too full of me to talk about love.

It would have been nice to lean on each other,
like hands on glass,
but I didn't have the courage to undress,
because being transparent is fragile,
and it's easy to break.


Sometimes, you’re right, I’m afraid to bloom. I am afraid to bloom because I fear that once I have blossomed you will think that your mission is complete and you will abandon me to my splendor. And I don’t want to look gorgeous except in front of your eyes. I don’t want those hands to stop caressing me, those eyes stop looking at me, those lips stop kissing me. I want your attention that makes me feel the queen of all roses, it is a desire that makes my soul vibrate and shine. Please grandma, come back to me. I need your love. I’m lost. Please pray for me. Grandma, I need your love.


Today I saw the angel of death
he had white eyes
without pupils
and a wrinkled white skin
with a look he tore me apart
reopened infected wounds
with its black wings it envelops me
an old piano plays a waltz.
The winged creature looks at me and smiles
he touches my lips with his fingers
run your hand gently over my cheeks
and then slowly pierces me from behind
it feeds on my blood
of my pain.
Watch life fade from my eyes
bring her thin lips closer
And he steals my last breath from me with a kiss.
And his eyes
and its skin
take back the true color
and scrutinizes me with his head held high
as I fall to my knees in front of him.
I recognize you. 
I remember those brown eyes
that very white skin,
but I don't have time to say your name
that are already with your claws to the throat.
But I remember the name of the one who conquered death and griffin it in your face and you no longer have power over me and my life. 


If you take a toad, you put it in a pot with water and bring it to the fire, you will observe an interesting thing: the toad adapts to the temperature of the water and stays in there and continues to adapt to the increase in temperature, however when the water comes to the point of boiling the toad would like to jump out of the pot but would not be able to because he is too tired due to the efforts he has made to adapt to the temperature. Some would say what killed the toad was boiling water … what killed the toad was his inability to decide when to jump out. So stop adapting to the wrong people, abusive relationships, parasitic friends and many other situations that “heat you up”. If you continue to adapt, unfortunately, you run the risk of “dying” inside. Jump out while you have time.
I have been wandering in nowhere for too long, I have fallen into the maelstrom of my thoughts, futile desires, fantastic illusions. This distance separates the bodies and not the heart, I miss you, God if you are missing, we were a beautiful but misunderstood painting, we were alive, a painting so full of meaning, we were color, strengths and weaknesses, warm tones. The reality is that I have become a clochard of emotions, a walking clich√©, I feed on the few crumbs that remain of a sworn, pure and raw love, the reality is that I beg for empty, forced smiles, but even if they are false they make me alive, or better, I survive. My world has become cold, apathetic, meaningless. Maybe I am exaggerated, yes, how can you think certain things? Can a feeling really affect our life? Can it really kill a man? YES. Love is a fucking mental addiction, love is you. I’m still wandering in the void, but I know that only you can save me somehow .. Your eyes are streets, your lips my city ..Let me go home .
This heart cried until it went dry,
These knuckles bleed, they gave it all,
These legs ran to the moon,
To show these eyes just how hard it is,
And this world only spins by inertia,
But if you stay here tonight maybe it will be different
These stars say "look but don't touch"
This sky does not speak to us but it makes us scream.
It's one of those days when I embroider black sheets,
we levitate among thoughts and avoid the most sincere,
maybe we deserve to look lighter.


He looked at her with his eyes shining, he ate it with his eyes, but he waited in silence. As she slowly approached his lips, he made a little jerk forward, but she gently stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Not like that,” he said softly. He didn’t want it to be a quick, voracious kiss. He wanted something completely different. She began to give him some very light kisses that went down from the nose to around the mouth. – A real kiss, in my opinion, must be slow … He reached his mouth and gently took her lower lip between his, then parted a few millimeters. – It must be tasted, it must be felt, it must be lived with all the senses. Slowly, looking into his eyes, she placed her lips on hers and, inhaling his perfume, kissed him softly, carefully enjoying every fiber of those sensations. Then her hands came into her curls, fingers caressing her temples gently. He too realized that he felt more, enjoyed more, gave time for all his senses to understand, to immerse themselves totally in those sensations, instead of confusing them.


I stared at him, but only for an instant, the time to cross that blue sea that always put me in awe. I felt like a thief caught in fragrant, guilty of that strange addiction I now had on his face. It was like a drug, I couldn’t do without it, and it was never enough. Greedy, I always wanted more, but you know the effect of being toxic to something or someone: it never ends well. And that’s what I repeated to myself, like a mantra, every time, so as not to fall for it: “Don’t get lost in those eyes”. I took a deep breath, staring at an indefinite point. Every cell in my body was on high alert and was screaming “Send it away”. While the heart remained in absolute peace, in its little corner of paradise, there in the center of the chest, where at every beat it seemed to mark its name.
I squeezed into the seat of the black Honda as the road passed fast below us. I checked out of the corner of my eye to see if he was looking at me, but at that very moment, I saw him go into the fast lane to pass an off-road vehicle ahead of us. I took courage, taking advantage of his moment of distraction, while the words came out of my mouth without any control, as if I hadn’t been the one to pronounce them: << Why did you want to see me? >>. I felt his eyes on me, incessant, violent, as if they wanted to dig inside me. I kept my gaze down, helpless now, outraged by his implicit irreverence. << I needed it >>. << What do you mean you needed it? >>. I realized I had almost screamed, exasperated. I lowered my voice, not even giving him time to reply. << You need oxygen, water. You need to feed, to sleep. Not people. Those, you simply want them or you don’t want them. And you don’t want me >>. << This is where you’re wrong >>.
I felt a butterfly go through my stomach. Her breathing slowed as her heart pounded inside. I replied with pride, as always, when I was too afraid.
<< You’re just lying. If you needed me, you’d hold me tight. If you needed me, you would save me >>
<< I’m already saving you. From me >>
<< You can’t. It’s too late >>.
<< I don’t know how to be there as you deserve. I’d give you a sunny day and then you’re dark. And you need to shine. You shouldn’t waste time with me. I’d just hurt you >>.
<< You do more to me by staying still, there in the prison that you built. How many brick walls will you still put between you and the world? How long will you be convinced that you are the bad guy, the one who only knows how to destroy? >>.
<< I don’t know how to love anymore, my friend >>.
<< I’ll teach you >>
<< It wouldn’t work. I would hurt you >>.
<< You are a coward. Stop being afraid of you, of us. Undo those damn chains. I have no more air and you don’t kiss me. Tell me why >>.
<< I can not keep anyone next. It’s like you have cold inside. And how can, who is snow, give warmth? Have you wondered? Do you think I would warm you up, that I would be able to always look at you with the same eyes? I would begin to feel cramped in our world. I would invent an alternative route along which to escape. I would treat you badly. I would let you slip away from me, until the day you could no longer bear my silences. Is this what you want in your life? >>.
His breathing was labored, perhaps desperate, as lost as he was. I was exhausted too, but I couldn’t give up.
<< I ask you again: Why did you want to see me? >>
<< For the dimple >>
<< What? >>
<< When you smile, a dimple appears on your right cheek. But you have to be careful and notice it right away, because often then you bite your lip and the dimple disappears. So I stay there like a fool trying to make you laugh, to see her again >>.
<< You can not claim that you need to see me and drag me here at 3 am for a dimple. Tell me what game are you playing >>
<< And then sometimes, instead of biting your lip, you touch your hair; but don’t twist them, just brush them, and lower your eyes. And you can see that you are embarrassed, so you try to hide it, but when you get embarrassed you laugh, and here is the dimple again. How to return to the starting point. And I would like to ask you to continue each time, but then I remain silent. So you look at me and you start thinking, and I wonder what is on your mind, what universe you have inside. But I don’t understand it.
Here it is.>>
Tonight I was thinking about it and I wondered if I was with someone, if I had that look of someone who is focused and is thinking about something. And a strange thing happened: I wondered if sometimes I too was among those thoughts, because I wanted it. And I never care about these things. I turned away anyone who was holding me in mind. I didn’t want to be in there. I waged wars to get out when they wanted to lock me up.
And instead tonight I would have sat there in your mind.
<< Would you ever believe it? >>.
I opened my mouth to reply, but only silence came out. I wanted to say everything and nothing, then everything again. I reached out to his hand slowly. The more he walked, the more intimidated I was. I first put my index finger to caress the contours of his fingers, then the whole hand. I held hers, tighter and tighter. << I teach you to love. You teach me not to be afraid >>.

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