the last time that I saw Dulce, she was right on that stairs, running to take a break and when I realize it, I was the maniac, spinning around to catch your air when you gone. I sat on the stage just to lay my head and close my eyes and I could barely see the tone or the colours so easily apart and being there... oh, I could die inside those eyes. If I look for a second or two, it would really kill my senses.
dulce, my dear, is Jack again, he's back. I dont want to get mad once more. where are you? you know, this anguish inside my void will drive me insane again, i'm biting my lips to keep in silence, and now there's blood in my mouth, cause I bite it hard. and when I feel this taste I meant to break the ice and just run, far away from anything - everything. I do believe in voices, even knowing that I hear them all the time, is a beginning to believe, but not with jack, he's too cruel, too human to scape. they keep telling me 'theres no emotion, gill.' when something is told so many times, even if it is not true - but they are so full of sure, you end up believing and getting in this mind game again, again, again. I could hear a thin voice say: "in your heart there's no emotion, and your soul, your soul just dried away. there's no love, no love left in your body; standing empty forever, and colder every day." ... but there's love, if you want it. and I suffocate at night, because its all poetry in my void, but just half, and half can be enough if you believe it, if you believe me.
dulce, please?
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