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"Como sempre, acabei por ser eu a cair sobre mim mesma, dobrei-me sobre os meus novos vícios e, aceitando-te como minha droga, cobri-me de seringas e de saudades. Enganando-me assim num monogamia que nem nunca cumpri, despindo a minha máscara preferida, a minha lingerie preferida, mostrando-te assim as minhas cicatrizes e as minhas manchas. E no final, foste tu mesmo a derramar o meu sangue sobre o teu corpo disforme, enterrando-me exactamente onde me havias desenterrado antes. Farta estou eu deste cemitério de nós, estou cansada de engolir esqueletos nestas noites cada vez menos finitas em que insistes em gemer dentro de mim quando a única coisa que quero é morrer. Morrer fora daqui, longe de ti." Agosto 2010

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qel disse…
"E no final, foste tu mesmo a derramar o meu sangue sobre o teu corpo disforme, enterrando-me exactamente onde me havias desenterrado antes. Farta estou eu deste cemitério de nós, estou cansada de engolir esqueletos (...)". colei. que maneira fluída de se escrever tão bem, com tudo tão em harmonia. adorei. *
21 de julho de 2011 às 14:43
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