I felt her with my cold  bare hands.
I got my hands always cold and maybe I should had let her know about that too.
I wondered if that would be the last time?
I wondered if the truth I was desperately looking for in her wasn't just me wasting my own time before I could face my own lies.
If I once loved her, Love will one day know. If I once fooled her,one day she will know.
If someday the truth shall be reveal to me, then I rather it to be on a Sunday sunset, when I'm old  and my time will be counted by the swings of my rocking chair.
Veronica Knows more than she tells and perhaps I write more than I know...

But I did liked her...
I learned how to...
I learned how to like her coldness and after-thoughts.
Her liking without loving.
Her giving without losing
Her books all over the place
Her free-spirit kept in a Coca-Cola can.
I learned that She doesnt like honey, but she loves it when with green tea.

But She didnt leave us for no reason.
She knew she was missing out something.
And she felt it in her veins, in her deep brain connections,
she felt it calling, something was trying to escape, ripping off the skin of the tips of her toes.
And She went after the rabbit, and she trusted the rabbit, although she could see him fading away, although she knew all this vision were just a metaphor for her deep desire to leave all the pain she carried in her heart.
She had no clue of a solution of any kind.
This world that they said being ruled by the intellect, the reason, the sagacity, the wisdom, was after all nothing more than an ugly play taking place on the roof of the finest of all the theater halls.
So she decided to leave it all behind. She decided that was better to be just a witness of this shameless decadent staging they called "Life".
So she left... perhaps to never come back.

"Have you forgotten your ticket... or your luggage?"
Because I wish you did.
I wish we both Had forgotten everything behind, included clothes,
and this bench was a bed, a small bed, so you would have to sleep on my chest.
Tomorrow will be another day. Tomorrow will be another day without check in, without gates, without running, without reading books,
without delays, without waiting queues, without sweat, without planes landing, without the morbid wishes for a plane to crash, without escalatores everywhere, without you.
How I hate airports... How I love airports.
******* Airports... full of their welcome laughs and goodbye tears, their happy endings and melodramatics departures.
The sad concept of living it's all condensed in this place. You are never happy with what you got till you are sad for what you lost.
But I was happy with you. I was happy at the Dublin Airport.

You wanted to separate Your sickness from your genius.
Donate to each of your brain hemispheres the resposibility
to deal with your differente delusions.
You wanted to be a little bit more morbid than genious or vice versa.
Never is such equal amounts.
You wanted fame, whatever it was the side of the coin.
You wanted to defended the colors of Manson.
You wanted to defended the colors of Sagan.
But You are stucked in a spiral where you aspire to breath
the air that only the freedom, of being something without conscience to self judge
or being something the world wont even dare to judge, can give.
But You are not so morbid... or so genius.
You're just like everyone else. In equal amounts.

Forgive me Love. Fogive me because Your forgiveness is the only one I care.
Forgive me because I didn't stay or Forgive me because I didn't say I wouldn't stay.
You may choose the worst of both sins and I may take the worse from your pain.
I will only faint when my heart gets too weak.
But I shall faint when gravity will be too strong for you to keep your tears.
Forgive me Love. Forgive me for I didn't mean to make you mine.

I knew that drinking was wrong. The Dad told it. The Mum told it. The Doctor told it.
******* everyone I knew told it. And still I gave it a try. To try to fix things up for me.
To try to fake love better than everyone arround did.
I walked miles with ***** on my veins. No one saw me and I saw no one.
I ignored their sins as long as they left me alone.
I kept their dreams alive as long as they didn't try to sell me any.
******* *******. They Dont know what their missing. Jailed in their ******* little pointless lifes.
I sit on the steps of the entry of an old apartment. I take my video camera out. Pretend it's a pistol.
And I sho(o)t them all. Later I will put the clips up to some classic Nocturne and I'll hang myself again in ***** and morphine.
Try to forget what Dad told. What Mum Told. What the Doctor told. Once Again.

Just one more time and I guess I'm done.

If you had to chose the end of something,
how would you people write it down?
If you had to die,
what would take your life away?
If You had to be forgotten,
how would you like to never be recalled?
If you had to lose someone...
I've never had a properly end written in a last glance of eyes.
I lost her like the eyes lose their shine.
I lost her like I imagine losing the hope. Unpredictable.
Like losing  that match of the matches, two seconds to the end when I was one hundred of points ahead.
She never told me goodbye. She never told me she would never come back.
And I was too lazy to wake up that morning.  
****... I wish I had wake up that morning.