Today I went to hit the sheets with the sins and guilt. I let go of them ready to face my daily duties and skin ripped me to shreds. I walked in the cold morning and the body nude raw. Any pangs of pain dirty cars smoke mixed with epithelial, contempt and blood. This is the air of the city, this is what we breathe here. Dense clouds of monsters and hatred.
There are days when not lift your head, not sure of these folds would not abandon the fetal position. These days there are hundreds, and all he does give me some peace is all that you despise, that before the girais face that will not have to look. What I'm afraid. You do not espantais my monsters, only soys even bigger monsters.
And I'm just a lot of skin and blood.
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