This evening suits my soul, blue
I wore a taffeta dress, Sister
Now you can make a semolina delight
What you will tell with my most broken heart
Tell me sister
And I wear a red rose on my chest.
How long has he been alive
You look at it as a fait accompli.
It's like the mirrors are drooping
Again this winter.
If I cut bangs on my life, if I commit murders
Does it suit me, Sister?
It's a nylon fringe, where love piles a pile, and for me, it's a dignified rush, after all, I never liked ordinary, Sister, and here I am digging my grave with my words, and what do you call life, Sister?
I lived in my glass mansion, I loved people for a lifetime, not daily. My pranks have not ended either, I pray that they are the crown of my head, and no matter how much I loved them, they did not make me neither a confidant nor a friend.
The heart is a factory of sadness.
I am a miserable goddess on the mysterious paths of the time tunnel, with my prayer rug laid and, for whatever reason, I remember my Lord as much as love was my dome and faith was my tag.
My color is always pink, Sister.
My human love remains.
It turned out that life was like poetry, moreover, I lived like poetry even without my actual acquaintance with poetry, and although I am not a poet, I wore the poet's cloak.
A rank is the epaulette of my sadness.
A motto is the endless season and downpour inside me.
Besides, I've never imitated anyone, Sister, I just loved it wholeheartedly and now I'm trying to untangle the last snag inside me.
I have no pain.
I don't have any.
Besides, I don't know what hunger is, especially after years of indulging my hunger, I will satisfy the hunger and my only appetite is the longing for peace and with an ever-increasing love, I love the universe with an ever-increasing love. the love I feel is a glowing syllable in the eyes of people, of course, a ball of love with the name "nothing", I am often ridiculed and questioned for no reason.
My way fell on you tonight, sister.
While I was having a conversation with friend, I ran into you and you are an older sister that I will never have, although I did not take permission from the universe while loving you and opening my heart to you.
I was not born from my ashes.
I was a completely harmless bird of baboon, perhaps a miserable dove, or that gigantic crow that had been haunting the window lately.
It never occurred to me that I could love even a crow, and now I am waiting for it: it is a thirsty creature and does not betray us either: water leaves something every day in the bowl we put it in: yesterday he left dry bread, and today I saw that he wiped out the wet bread in one bite.
I love my God very much and I saw that that God-fearing crow did not drop a single bite of bread on the ground and did not waste it.
Uncle, have I always been like this and I'm just beginning to know, maybe the unending voice inside me.
Of course, my dear, I am always the same: yesterday and today, and it seems; I will be expelled again from this last village where I stayed.
I am neither the headman of the village, nor do I give a memorandum to myself, but I always give orders to my brain and then I remain silent and wait.
Really, what am I waiting for, sister, since I know myself.
A person must know himself: Aren't there also those who show you your place?
Here's to the fact that boiling water is poured over my head, especially if someone I trust and love is put in my place.
But there is worse.
The words that hit me like a slap in the face just last winter, Sister, and it was my only crime to protect myself, I've always idled for the sake of it, my inner voice and external voice are always dominant, don't look at what I've been saying so much, Sister, I can't silence my inner voice anymore, especially when my whole life was silent. Of course, the universe repays this, and I run with increasing enthusiasm and love.
Why do wrongs make right?
Why does the right not take away the wrong?
So am I right or wrong?
When I say that I got rid of the stress of the exam, I have been studying like crazy since the day I realized that I was tested, and I constantly question myself.
This time I breathe in the nature of a flower of my inner voice, then its light goes out and here I love my Lord more with every particle that corresponds to my nothingness. I constantly think about my struggle with myself and my struggle to jump a level, and then I run back from people.
It's been a long time since I got rid of the two halves that died yesterday and managed with the remaining part of me, you don't know Sister, no one actually knows what stole my life and it's so innocent that the negative energy I put on myself, finally I imprisoned myself in my feelings due to overdose and it would be nice if I didn't write well, who knows , Older sister?
I thought my life had immunity and I realized that I presented my feelings and humanity on a golden platter.
There must be someone who judges.
I respect myself.
A lot of satire and while I was always making fun of myself and that wavelength was so high that of course it wasn't easy for me to come to the surface.
I saw the bottom, Sister, you know, I was almost cut off from life and I was hung with that thin cotton thread that I started writing later in life and it started to thicken because its name was love, hope and faith.
My words, Sister: they are my children, and do not people say it impudently For what? Never mind, sister, I am the real child.
It was a miracle, even many miracles waiting for me, and in fact, thousands of feelings that I had inside me and that came to the surface in summer and summer, and know that I am not exaggerating, Sister, especially when I fell in love with infinity.
My sadness
Sometimes the joy that comes to light.
I'm offended My sister and I are very offended, but I never want to contradict people, but I always have friction with them from time to time and they don't know what's wrong with me.
It is known that I am blind, so I try to write and live without getting tired, and the trip I made when I was climbing the career ladder, when I believed and trusted everyone, and when I followed the word and lost my profession and obeyed whatever anyone said in order to listen, and in that huge void I fell into, go until the day I started writing. a growing gap.
It's easy on the tongue: and in the state's records while it's wasted
At least I have done all the damage to myself and then I am in the minus house while I have been harmed by other people, I am in the minus section of life and what I know plus is only what I wrote in the light of faith, love and hope.
I never knew either: what?
