Mauricio, what the fuck are you doing?
't seems like it was yesterday that I made paper stars for you. It really does.
Every single fold in a thin strip of paper... every star I made thinking of you.
Second after second, minute after minute, hour after hour.
My eyes miss your sight. I miss my strength.
You made me feel stronger.
I could do things- I could put the world on my shoulders and spin for it.
I miss doing these things.
God works in mysterious ways. I gotta regain my strength somehow.
This week was terrible. Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, tests. Things were said on Wednesday night. Things that had to be said. Things that... I knew. I had noticed it in her eyes and her body expressions, and then her tired eyes. I just knew, and again, I chose not to listen to the little voice in my head. Then, it just happened. Thoughts started flowing out my eyes, down my cheeks, for about a minute. I stopped myself from it. I can't afford people seeing that. I have an image to keep. Then I walked. I walked until my lips were dry. Then I walked home.
Thursday morning, felt like a street dog. Hungry, sick, tired, lonely. Friday, somewhat the same. I miss when she sent me random pictures. It was fun.
But now, I don't know if I want to avoid her. I really fell for her. I'd give my all to be able to spend an hour with her.
Saturday comes slow. This weekend will be strange. My chest feels empty.
You may ask for poetry and you will receive it.
You may ask for a minute, I'll give you an hour.
Ask me for my heart, I'll give you my everything.
You're worth my everything.
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