Deep in my mind

Deep in my mind, i expect to have peace with myself, the same peace that i expect when i wake up in the morning and the sweet blanket of my bed, bring me heat in the freezing night. Even in the night, i sit down in my computer, to write. Write about my nightmares, about my experiences of the day, about the feelings that cause me sadness. Even in the night, i expect your call, while i write verses of my heart and log poetry about my life.

You got me here, writing for you, imagining, creating, longing, dreaming… for you…
What about me?
What expect me, if is not just a bed full of delusions? Or just a bed full of sadness?
well, it doesnt matter anymore, im here, waiting without expecting anything in change
Waiting for nobody
waiting to the time, to run along, and bring me slumber and relax
waiting for you
waiting my tears to run along my face, and let free my feelings
even, waiting  when i turn around, to see you there, with me and be able to talk and…
and know about yourself a bit more, to feel more, to make my night get full of light and write my feeling
my words get the feeling, just when i imagine your face in my mind just for a moment…
because…

For a moment, i could hug you
for a moment, i could talk with you
for a moment, i could… be honest, with myself…  with you..
This is my tragedy, that run along me, just the writting and writting, it has turn, in the real nightmare
just realice that i write what i dont say and just keep with me the ilussion of the moment
it looks like, i write, not to be read, not to be forgotten, i write to free my feelings
writing, just for record my lost days…

I wish for a moment, you could look at me the way i see you
and feel, the pain of feel so many things and just keep it in your heart, just to wait someone could read them, i wish, just for a moment, do not feel myself like a idiot, just because i go to my bed with tears in my eyes…
I wish, i could be somebody else, who doesnt expect the love to knock his door
I wish, i could be somebody else, who doesnt live his life for love, even when he doesnt have it
i dont want to change that, even knowing that i should…

I cant be different and i cant pretend it, i can be who i really are, even knowing, the consecuences that it will bring to my life and that i cant advance from been a letters lover and a creator of feelings
I dont expect to you could understand me and to really know who am i, and be who am i, it means be resentful, i just expect you could understand that, and at least… tell me that you know it

“the only truth, is the one that is hidden in my heart, it can be tougher than my tears of my eyes”