I swear, there's someone in my house, but they're not in the room, not in the dark hallway, and not behind the torn curtain.
He's like a shadow in my eyes, gently touching my neck and whispering sweet verses into my pillow that I can't remember composing.
Rewrite this sentence in the same style: every night, closer, his breath is my breath, his voice is my echo, his laughter is my silence.
People keep telling me I'm alone, that walls don't hurt, that mirrors don't wink, that fear can't bite.
But he's always looking at me through the glass, with my smile, with my hands, tearing at my insides, and when the doctor says, "It's just stress," I sit there with tears in my eyes, nodding with him. You're totally alone, ¿aren't you?
He's like a shadow in my eyes, gently touching my neck and whispering sweet verses into my pillow that I can't remember composing.
Rewrite this sentence in the same style: every night, closer, his breath is my breath, his voice is my echo, his laughter is my silence.
People keep telling me I'm alone, that walls don't hurt, that mirrors don't wink, that fear can't bite.
But he's always looking at me through the glass, with my smile, with my hands, tearing at my insides, and when the doctor says, "It's just stress," I sit there with tears in my eyes, nodding with him. You're totally alone, ¿aren't you?