01/2010
I lit my cigarette and waited until my fingers became yellow.
I was looking at the horizon, sat on the sidewalk.
Where were you?
I waited for you, for your love. Waited for a comfortable word, for a pleasant hug, a familiar smile. For reliable ears which I can whisper. But you didn’t came, the love neither. No word or hug, or a smile. I never whispered in your ears.
The friendship, that I felt for you, kept me company until the end of the cigarette.
I think that the only thing I met that night was the loneliness, my old teenage friend.
(01/2010)
One, two, Freddy’s coming for you. Three, four, better lock your door. Five, six, grab your crucifix. Seven, eight, gonna stay up late. Nine, ten, never sleep again.
o verbo “foder” e suas conjugações unem a humanidade mais do que a privada.
