I want to die while you love me ...
I want to die while you love me,
"I am writing in your bullshit pages because my doctor is crazier than I am. He thinks you're a therapy. He figures if I don't take a break it will handle me to the psycho world, what would I do with this. So stupid. He is so stupid ... he thinks he pulled me through the breakdown but its only Zura. Always ... only Nazura. I was looking through her postcards. Poems were her obsession. She even start it as another way to love me, to help me and to keep us always together... "
When I think about her, my pen never seems to run short of words. Every more-than-pleasant thought fill my mind and fuels creativity. She is so ... everything that I could very easily write a million stories about her. If I think myself loaded with all this creativity of words and what not, why do I find myself lacking just as much with something else? In my own little, human mind, my entire self and universe of imagination cannot surpass the dream of holding her hand. I cannot think of hugging her, holding her or anything else with her. Perhaps this is a part of definition of love. Right here and now, that is the highest point in love I can think of. Reason and rationally would both say, however, that once there, I could probably imagine something even greater. In short, the next 'step' seems like heaven from wherever you currently are. With regards to love, it isn't that the next step you see is heaven, but the fact that all of them are. Why? Her. Knowing all this, without thought or hesitation, I would trade those million stories for just one that we would both be characters in. All in all, no matter how glorious a topic 'her' heavenly soul is to write, 'her' worth could be better written on heart than paper. In a simpler metaphor, only writing 'her' would be the same as saying "elephant shoe" instead of "I love you", considering they both make the same lip movements.
Bit
While yet you hold me fair,
While laughter lies upon my lips,
And lights are in my hair.
While laughter lies upon my lips,
And lights are in my hair.
"I am writing in your bullshit pages because my doctor is crazier than I am. He thinks you're a therapy. He figures if I don't take a break it will handle me to the psycho world, what would I do with this. So stupid. He is so stupid ... he thinks he pulled me through the breakdown but its only Zura. Always ... only Nazura. I was looking through her postcards. Poems were her obsession. She even start it as another way to love me, to help me and to keep us always together... "
When I think about her, my pen never seems to run short of words. Every more-than-pleasant thought fill my mind and fuels creativity. She is so ... everything that I could very easily write a million stories about her. If I think myself loaded with all this creativity of words and what not, why do I find myself lacking just as much with something else? In my own little, human mind, my entire self and universe of imagination cannot surpass the dream of holding her hand. I cannot think of hugging her, holding her or anything else with her. Perhaps this is a part of definition of love. Right here and now, that is the highest point in love I can think of. Reason and rationally would both say, however, that once there, I could probably imagine something even greater. In short, the next 'step' seems like heaven from wherever you currently are. With regards to love, it isn't that the next step you see is heaven, but the fact that all of them are. Why? Her. Knowing all this, without thought or hesitation, I would trade those million stories for just one that we would both be characters in. All in all, no matter how glorious a topic 'her' heavenly soul is to write, 'her' worth could be better written on heart than paper. In a simpler metaphor, only writing 'her' would be the same as saying "elephant shoe" instead of "I love you", considering they both make the same lip movements.
Bit
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