Crónicas de una licántropa a sueldo.

I remember our highs in hues, Like the color of his eyes  As the sun was setting; The pale if his hands in mine And the blue of his smile. I remember our sorrows in shades,  Like the gray of the shadows,  Which loomed that day,  And the white in his lie When he promised to stay. 

You were like a dream, I wish I hadn't  Slept through.  Within I fell deeper,  Than your heart would  Care to let you.  I thought you were a keeper,  I wish I could  Have kept you.

I turn away And close my heart  To the promise of love  That is luring.  For the past has taught  To not be caught,  In what is not Worth pursuing  To never do  The things I've done That once had led To my undoing.

Shrinking in a corner, Pressed into the wall; Do they know I'm present,  Am I here at all? Is there a written rule book, That tells you how to be- All the right things to talk about - - That everyone has but me? Slowly I am withering - - A flower deprived of sun ; Longing to belong to-- Somewhere or someone.

Her heart is played Like well worn strings; In her eyes The sadness sings Of one who was destined For better things.

There is a particular kind of suffering to be experienced when you love something greater than yourself. A tender sacrifice. Like the pained silence felt in the lost song of a mermaid; or the bent and broken feet if a dancing ballerina. It is in every considered step I am taking in the opposite direction of you.

When I used to look above All I saw was sky; And every song That I would sing, I sung not knowing why.  All I thought and all I felt, Was only just because,  Never was it ever you - Until it was all there was.