I heared, just for a morbid, sickly instant, a second that I tried to repeat, but I can't.
Hurts my soul and tears my throat apart, hurts me from the inside, from the deeper part of my being, hearing your begging voice, waiting for my answer, and being unable to respond. Your smile started trembling, and I saw your tears faling from your eyes and become rivers, furrowing your inocent cheeks
It doesen't matter how much I try, my voice won't come out, and I'm so week that I can't even close my hand in a fist.
The whisper of the wind comes from the window, and the time, cruel, stops for a moment, to let me appreciate your face for the last time.
I remember, now that I can, that murmur that only I had the chance to hear, because it belongs to me. That angelical sound that came out of your lips like it did so many times before. And I want to scream to the world, to the seven seas, or eight, ot five, or as much as they are, from the higest mountain that I can find:
My sweetheart, I will always love you too.
YOU ARE READING
Promises
Short StoryI hate making promises, I should stop making them, I know it, I've told it to myself a thousand times, yet here I am, in a friday night, wishing I could be in my pijamas, reading, sleeping, or hearing a drunk man saying nosense in a podcast. Or mayb...
