B is for Bárbara,
I’m 21 y/o, Brazilian,

LOVE FOR: words, specially poems and lyrics; music and all kind of sounds; old Hollywood movies; urban and fashion photography; regular people, fashion models, and musicians, and finally, beautiful or busy places.

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True Story.

I’m hurting. My body is shaking, my skin is cold. Tears fall from my blue eyes. I’m confused. I refuse to smile. I am lost. My legs are weak. My mouth tastes bitter. I can’t breath.

I don’t want to leave my bed. I don’t want to see friends. I despite food. It’s hard to drink water. I can stand music. I stare at my screen. I can’t move.

You’re gone. Easily. No fights. Just gone… How could you? Gone… Don’t you miss me? Don’t you care? Not even a little? The good memories… aren’t they worth something?

When we kissed… When you touched me… Your hands in my hair… But you had never hugged me!

You never cared.

… Maybe you’re smiling right now while I haven’t for a while.

Guess this too shall pass.

[rant by B]

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