terça-feira, 9 de março de 2010

cigarettes and coffee

The fourth time we fought I thought was definitive. There wasn’t too much more of anything to rebuilt, and we’ be stuck with casual conversation. If we walked the same streets, we’d pray we’d go unnoticed, nod politely or you’d act too busy and excessively entertaining yourself with a winner who never had to fight. I’d be left with a scrapbook and I know you’d keep my letters too, though you’d never tell me. Though you don’t tell me anything lately.

Last time we fought I noticed how much we’ve changed and how much weight I’d gain for carrying such a heavy heart. Between jobs and between boyfriends, I knew I’d go out a couple of times before realizing I have no call on my destiny and I never knew how to meet men.

When we fought I knew I’d be the part who’d hurt the most, cause I’m a bad learner – and when I felt good, I’d feel bad for not feeling bad cause we deserve so much more. You and I never liked goodbyes, so even though we both knew (cause there’s always that feeling), we acted cool so we could play dead later.

I know I’d smile every time I’d eat wafers because I’d remember our inside joke, so I’d cry. I knew that if we ever went to our special place again, we wouldn’t kiss while people weren’t looking anymore. I knew I’d stalk you until I was hurt knowing you had someone new, cause I’m only human.

As time passed, I would also know I’d eventually find somebody nice though it’ll never be quite like you, cause some things are once in a lifetime. I made up with love what I lacked in beauty so you wouldn’t think about how out of my league you always were.

Last time we ever spoke I knew I’d to though depression (all the crying in the dark and listening to Billie Holiday), through anger (at humanity, at me, at you – but never at us) and through all those moments we can’t quite qualify.

The very last time I looked into your eyes I knew everything, but when you turned your back on me after our last hug I knew no longer, and I understood only why there’s no way up – there’s only falling in love.

Um comentário:

Gustavo Castello B. Beirão disse...

ok, este texto é meu, por direito, agora. Porque tudo o que tá escrito obviamente só pode ter sido escrito em relação à minha vida.