'I need you,' I whispered. I'm not even sure if I've actually said. Maybe it was just this feeling that made me remember what it was when you were there. This emptiness in me noticed as I did that it is no longer there. Maybe I've just imagined that I said something and it was just a little bit of longing. You know, I've long been no more words for it. For you, for me, actually for everything. I'm full of that emptiness. There's just this feeling in between. Between the forgotten and remember the fly and the . Fall Between the lie and the silence. This piece of the never truly belongs. A simple word, too loud to be silent and be too soft to lie. Lost somewhere between what was and what might be the only escape from the truth. This truth is nobody wants to leave we really on the last page. Just because they did not even fit. She does not feel right. And it's what matters. The fact that it feels right. You know, I would already rich when you are happy. If I know that somewhere hidden in you the feeling that it is right. But you know, even if it is ice cold and between you and me are all the oceans of the world I feel that it is missing. It is not where it should be. It is simply not there, that feeling. 'I need you,' I said. Not loud. I do not even remember if I've moved my lips. I can not remember how many votes I have given my words. Maybe I did not want that you hear it. That you see what I am. You know, I really wanted to be stronger. I wanted to be stronger than I have ever tried. I wanted to put the last point below the truth, closed the book and put it back into place. thought untouched by anyone and solely for us. I really thought that I would be so strong. No, really I knew that I would not be, but I believed it. I really wanted to be stronger. I wanted to be free. And then the time has simply stopped moving. The rain came and the lights went out. No one remembers when we disappear. The moment when we decide to go really. There was just this feeling in between. You are everywhere. You are the last sip of milk from the cereal bowl and the first drops of summer rain. You are the story for the dark nights and the dream of thunderstorms. You are the last minute before the wake and the first snow in winter. You are the wind in the barley fields and the last flake of rainbow fish. You are everywhere in between. You are the patches for your own wounds on my skin and wonder for the time stands still. You're the air around me. You never quite. I would suffocate. And you'd never let me die.
(C) DO NOT COPY!