How do you fit my shoes, your eyes go through the dirty glass of my glasses crooked? How
make you understand what causes the clock cruel to my heartbeat, so your words freeze frost in my soul?
How do you feel that thrill in my throat when I figure out from this world and leaving without my arms?
How can you understand what my heart and my reason unknown mean?
How do all that?
there anything ... there is a way. Look into my eyes, reflect you there and see WHAT is in them.
not a cliché, or words that sound nice.
Think before you act, you feel you would feel if I do what I do or say about you what you say about me, every word full of gall or honey.
That you fit my shoes, and there yes, welcome to my feet, my steps, to who I am ... and let your eyes achieve stand behind my glasses askew, after the dirty glass we I encourage you, however, to see the world.
Á Angeles
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