Every morning I see a dead
flower on the green.
If you run out of ink you can always use blood.
If you run out of words you can always use lead.
All we have is time and
time destroys all things.
Every time that I close my eyes, in
slow motion I can see my favorite flower die.
And the neighbors will say he was such a
quiet man.
You cant hug a
memory, you cant hug a
photograph, you cant hug time and you cant hug a
suicide.
The dirt under my nails is from burying my friend, there's a
permanent solution in a small piece of lead.
The first rule in the book says you can never go back, you cant be a good mom with a gun to your head.
The broken frame around my picture is not just a
metaphor.
Every time I close my eyes I watch my flower die.