In the arms of Another

I really don’t wanna be in the arms of another. But, you see, he holds me, he touches me, he gives me what you don’t. So even if I don’t feel him, at least I feel myself. You care for me - you say. But your way of caring kills softly, drains my life drop by drop, keeping me in the distance, like a mannequin for display, while you touch others you don’t love. So, in order to feel alive, with the last threads of breath I’ve got, I let myself drift into the arms of another.

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Pure

As the morning frost, she was pure. No agendas. No malicious intentions. No requisites. No prerequisites. She was full of talent. She was full of light. She had it all. A passionate, loving heart. Strong, courageous, deep and true. She just was. She was so pure that she couldn't see it. That's why many hated her, wanted to bring her down, destroy her.