The words stopped coming out when the lights came off. So much waiting, so much misfortune to end up with the concurrence of empty and desperate feelings that yell to be found.

What is the point if I don’t have you? If the only voices of grief torment my sanctuary. Happiness was with me, but I wasn’t able to find it.

Tears and tears, moribund and luminescent shadows emerging, living in my soul with no slight of shame. What do they want? What are they looking for? Weren’t enough the hours and seconds in which my inside garden was turning just as dull as the night, when I could barely see it? And in which my memories became increasingly blurred?

Stained these pages by purple ink, salt and honey from my eyes that see every single thing with astonishment and sobs.

You arrived early, before the sunset was taking place, but not enough to see the dawn. Numb my legs for this incessant stillness, numb mi hands for writing in this paper these sorrowful words, and numb my soul for the time in which I was unable to love you.

I tried to paint the landscape with the most beautiful colors, but I could only make them darker, it is hard for me to believe that you haven’t left already, I’m surprised that you still prolonging my aching existence.