She was a complicated person.
Complicated in the gestures, in the thoughts, to say words, even embrace. She was one of those people that, seemed to have struggled against something and now, now she just wanted to stand while being lost. She was one of those complex people smiling, always with the feet on the ground but with the head and heart elsewhere.
Complicated because she didn't saw only one color, but all the nuances, complex because she could not be content, no more.
Complicated because her thoughts were almost never light, many times weighed, crushed, but then, cradled between the notes of distant, listen, remember songs.
Complicated because she kept trying smiles, without tiring. Because she distinguished them. Because she said she would not make it, but then, with surprise get up and do not know how, take it forever. Complicated because she would not open at all, but only in front of a pair of honest eyes.
Without break up body and soul she was able to enter gently in the heart, without noise, without doing evil. But you heard it too, because she was able to touch and make vibrate gently with pure emotions ropes of this.
Complicated because she asked with the eyes and not with words, so damned incomprehensible.
Protecting and knew the extreme sweetness of loving, loaded on her shoulders the weight of the day, then trust any secret at night. She could protect against sudden storms. Often she flooded, but continued to breathe, without sinking.
She was one of those people that you would not say: they are beautiful. Perhaps because the complexity scares, lands, leaves you so: unprepared.
In front of the banality and a life devoted to frivolous, granted, no taste, she could give it to them, even when everything seemed to dry like a wilderness. Dry and off as rainy days.
She could sweep the monotony of gray and give color and flavor: that of dreams color of the sky, prairie color of hope, the red color of the lips, the love color of life.
Complicated in the gestures, in the thoughts, to say words, even embrace. She was one of those people that, seemed to have struggled against something and now, now she just wanted to stand while being lost. She was one of those complex people smiling, always with the feet on the ground but with the head and heart elsewhere.
Complicated because she didn't saw only one color, but all the nuances, complex because she could not be content, no more.
Complicated because her thoughts were almost never light, many times weighed, crushed, but then, cradled between the notes of distant, listen, remember songs.
Complicated because she kept trying smiles, without tiring. Because she distinguished them. Because she said she would not make it, but then, with surprise get up and do not know how, take it forever. Complicated because she would not open at all, but only in front of a pair of honest eyes.
Without break up body and soul she was able to enter gently in the heart, without noise, without doing evil. But you heard it too, because she was able to touch and make vibrate gently with pure emotions ropes of this.
Complicated because she asked with the eyes and not with words, so damned incomprehensible.
Protecting and knew the extreme sweetness of loving, loaded on her shoulders the weight of the day, then trust any secret at night. She could protect against sudden storms. Often she flooded, but continued to breathe, without sinking.
She was one of those people that you would not say: they are beautiful. Perhaps because the complexity scares, lands, leaves you so: unprepared.
In front of the banality and a life devoted to frivolous, granted, no taste, she could give it to them, even when everything seemed to dry like a wilderness. Dry and off as rainy days.
She could sweep the monotony of gray and give color and flavor: that of dreams color of the sky, prairie color of hope, the red color of the lips, the love color of life.
