Mãos Incertas

até quando eu esquecer tudo? até quando a paz ao fechar os olhos e me permitir, como criança que brinca no quintal da vó, sonhar com um céu lindo e estrelado me consumindo aos poucos? até tão pouco, que eu me torne pó. por que não?

- Behaving, Confessional

Already Gone

Wanting to die, Anne Sexton

I don't want to be small, small, sad, I want to be big, big, sad Woah, baby, mourn (I won't stop) I want to make a pageant of my grief Woah, baby, mourn (I won't stop crying) Cut our own bed in half and carry your side everywhere with me Woah, baby, mourn (I won't stop) Yes I do, yes I do Woah, baby, mourn (I won't stop crying) I'm not letting go yet, I'm not over it yet Woah, baby, mourn (I won't stop) I'm sure my friends are tired of me talking about you But it's a gift, it's a gift to miss you.

Nothing but thieves

― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

Just needed the time to grow, but probably not together though.