Ghost.
You found me. You sounded a bit desperated and complaining; you still sounded like that old-fashioned liar who doesn't give a shit about a broken-hearted man, women or child. At first you considered me a stalker, I ain't a stalker, you searched for me (and you succeded in finding me). I am your own personal haunting ghost, not because I want to, but 'cause you are the one that chases me and wants me around...I'm not checking you on the phone, but you are. I'm not the one shooting lies here and there... Still I am not in love... at least not with you...
When I create, you become my ghost, you haunt me and creativity goes away. I wonder what happens when you are creative or just doing anything that brings me to your thoughts... White reflects every ray of light in here, I never tried to enter any kind of polluted waste bin like this. And of course I am not even trying to step out of it. I said goodbye, you only managed to say good. Can't you just let me go? 'Cause I already did.
Now this is the time, I repeat: I am not your ghost, I am not your haunting ghost, you are making it out of me, I don't stalk you, you grab me and you don't let me out. I wish you were close to these words so you could understand what I mean... Someday you'll learn to live a new life and not depend upon the results you get by having me around... Spending the night with someone else has really helped me, I bet you already tried, try to get as much love as you can, not physicall love, but real love... That'll ease the pain...
Uno nunca sabe...
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