Nights of insomnia. Volumen 2: At some point in our life.

I suppose that at some point in our life these things happen, one comes across a person who awakens certain uncharted feelings, passions and desires never imagined. I shouldn’t be scared, no matter how much of a coward I may get called, only we get carried away by what we are passionate about, it’s when we can end up crashing, more I am not a person of repent and much less to live with the "what would happen if ..." I want to live, me and my small and modest but crazy world, we seek to know if there is more, even though I feel that I know you, although I feel that very soon we will get to know each other only dressed by are freckles and scars.

You are a picture of renaissance, something beautiful more than in most of the time has more than one meaning, and even though I consider myself an onion that you must peel skin by skin to got to know better, you, on the other hand, I can’t cut with a knife and see what’s beyond, or maybe I’m giving too many laps to everything and that there are no "more there ", this is you in your most vivid expression, this is your support and put up with all that I can be.

I’m still cowardly ashamed of knowing what you will feel if you ever saw me naked, but that’s even something I eager to make it happen, but still I get scared of what might happen, maybe the verb is, what we can "become", in form of unity, of integrity, of what you make me want to be, to consolidate, to learn to, love you, with imperfections and with perfections, those that make you “you”, to know what these cast powder, fight by your side every day, back to back being our own super heroes.

I’m more ashamed to show you everything that in my mind travels, I'm afraid to accept what I feel and suffer for , because you are in my dreams, in the beautiful and dirty ones, in my tender and sinful thoughts, in which you will feel confused to see who I can be dressed and who I can be undressed, what my mind can come to plan when I only look for an end regardless of the afterlife, that I am the collection of many collateral damages with beautiful hair, more with a soul perhaps , not to intrigue very calculating, impatient, but volatile, those that when they explode and the flames are so inside you that the burn of 4th grade is irreparable, because I fill up fast when I like something and your lips are my favorite pastime these days, because I prefer a thousand times to imagine you naked above me, than to imagine all the realities that surround me, because it is absurdly romantic what I am feeling for you, because perhaps beyond you I wait for a concrete wall of those that are armed with stone, but one that cannot resist, that which tempts one so much. Because you, you tempt me with your voice