your dreams not mine.

i can't stand to see you like this.

last night you spell the words. slumped and stretched out on floor crying with no sounds at all. i can feel you growling in your heart. ramming your head to wall and agony with black soul, there. now you have no smile to reminded. have no laugh to be hear. have nothing to be founded.

you seemed like a beautiful frosted glass mannequin. you are so fragile and easy to get broke.

dreams.

you have your own dreams.

heavenly trip to hell.

yeah,

this is our trip. long journey to hell through heaven.

wasn't bad instead beautiful.

you and me only with things, glasses of wine and a bottle of vodka.

we started our trip. i played with your hair and you runned your finger on my skin. burned out my blood stream, cold up damped harmonic motion and ended by our eurhythmics.

and hey, the colours played it purity among the clouds that we created a few minutes ago. do you feel it?. flowers are bloom and roses spread out covered up our artless pulchritudinous. it just through our brain. i like its syndrome. can you smell the sweet-scented of freedom?. we flown and skipped together.

we had through the night under the sky and flash of thunder. then suddenly dawn came up and we coagulate beneath the red circle of sun.

ohh dear, i heart u from deep inside my consciousness. my greatest desire is to be with you in every single dawn and wake up next to you.