***Is it possible to be under thick blankets, yet feel cold as if sleeping in a tomb covered with snow? I know that it is... Every night, I cry for arms to hold me. And it seems that my tears freeze before reaching my lips... Or is it that their taste became similar to the air that I inhale almost against my will? Perhaps I cried so much that my tears are now distilled water...
And in my nightly fevers, I see my life unroll, like if death was near, coming to embrace me. [is death my only lover?] . I see my life, like a movie passing slowly, like a blood thirsty blade.. Like a ghoul never satisfied...
In my sleep, i reach out to touch your face, but only to remember the abyss that is in front of me... In my arms is only void . [is emptiness my bride?]
Under the shell of my skin, my soul is wet with acid rain, falling endlessly, and sometimes, it takes shelter under Dreams... But my desillusionned soul soon [too soon?] feels, again, the cold shower of pain...
And my eyes, blurried by tears, look for happiness on this planet, but are blinded by this thick mist, that entrances my lungs like a steam that chokes me, that makes me feel like puking my soul out. [is life a disease?] .
During my nights, I remember words you've told me. They were love-coated drugs, and I quickly became addicted to your lies. I remember your eyes, that I once compared to the sea, but I forgot how to swim, and I sank, slowly, in this liquid iceberg...
And as the sun rises, my fever reached its climax, and I feel cold, so cold, and the infection in my heart won't seem to heal.
And I reach out for your hand one last time, but the bit of hope that I keep dies. And at last, I surrender to slumber, wishing never to wake up.
I die everynight, and my heart is being eaten by starving worms. I die, everynight, and my soul is becoming colder than death. Perhaps even colder than love.
And I wish that one day, my heart will turn to stone.
But that day, it will also stop beating.***

[***I*feel*so*cold*without*you,*and*my*blue*l ips*will*only*accept*yours***]

[***I*feel*so*cold*without*you,*and*my*heart*will*only*an swer*to*the*beats*of*yours***]

[***My*blood*stays*still*in*my*veins,*and*only*the*taste*of*your*tea rs*will*make*it*flow*again***]

[***The*thought*of*you*is*like*ice*into*my*heart]

I'm like the princess of this old fairy-tale, dead, but yet not dead enough to quit life. My castle is made of frozen tears and broken dreams.
Everything here is fragile like glass and sparkles with snow crystals.
How long will I wait here?
How many nights?
How many times will I try to open my grave made of ice?
How many rhymes will be written for our love to be?
How much ink will be spilled?
Perhaps my pen is lead by the impulse of my delerium, and that my loneliness has already driven me insane. [is solitude my only campanion?]
But I will wait for you. Even if you don't exist, I will try to breathe or you. I will make more room for you in my heart, until emptiness and I make one.

I will always be here for you.

[Because*I*can't*die*without*you]

[... *Come*to*me* ... ]

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