Cramping And Hard Cervic

question of perspective

You always said that death was the end of everything. I actually said that death was only the beginning.

You saw
the glass as half empty and I saw it as half full. We never realized it was actually half and always had been well until I drank it and left it completely empty .

You were the moon and night, I was the sun and days. Together we were a perfect eclipse, a sunset or sunrise, no matter how you mean it.

But now that has changed, you closed the door to a predictable slam now has become our your wailing wall in our your torture, in an impenetrable wall that separates our lives. you stayed out of my heart and I within yours or not. I guess it depends on how you look, to me this matter and left me long ago LIE.

Now every time I see a blue-eyed nostalgia the anger and hatred desire over me and I can not help thinking that everything was fault, or maybe it was mine. You were pure darkness and I was pure light, or vice versa, what a mix right? I do not know how long we could stand. So I was not surprised that one day it all broke out and splatter pain pristine walls that covered my heart.

And now you're martilleandote this wonderful hollow stubborn and telling you that you had about leaving, and I'm here at the side of the door where I belong, with those words of love of rage that you threw me head-banging his head. Or the other way around, and do not know, or want to know.

I guess it is a matter of perspective.