I'm here and you can not, after all there are, and obviously you're not there physically.
You're not reading me, you're not there to say good night and good day, but every hour the clock sounds, beeps, sound and tells me that you're here. It waits for the moment and when that moment comes the feeling of being unprepared to be far more: I need more time, I thought, I need to say too many things that maybe I never said. I need to feel a little 'we'll make it this time.
I've been here waiting for the world to notice, that the world could see what I see.
Selfishness leads me to shut up, not to share, selfishness leads me to this lack. That day
you told me that I had become a butterfly, you told me that the caterpillar was gone, I've watched with eyes full of love for me, just for me and I've wiped the mascara cast, I've pulled away from machine and told me to smile, the rest would come, the rest would face together.
I do not want to lose those memories slip away I do not want the feeling of being at home, before the eyes of the part of me that I find in me.
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