El hombre que no sabia que escribir (Subtitles) Bienvenido a mi casa virtual / Welcome to my virtual home Hoy te comparto mi nueva iniciativa, al fin he traído a 3shorts los microrrelatos. Sí, así como

Dark twisted fantasies Painful realities The strength of a tear not shed The rhythm of a broken heart’s beat. The joy, knowing you’d never be enough. For him. For her. For everyone. No matter what you

There is a time to consume, and a time to create. There is a time to lay back and relax; my body thinks this should happen every time. There is the time to ride the waves, and a time to swim against the

What do you do when... The nights are dark and cold The days are bright like it’s summer Even the stars are tucked behind the blankets of the sky Where do you run to when... The darkness lingers on for

How do you step into the dark with such confidence? A bag of uncertainties hanging round your neck Like moving to a new city with no GPS And scary stories sending you some not too mild shivers It’s insane

I never want to push you out into the mud or pierce your side with the knife that made us dinner last night. It’s no fun watching tears roll down your cheeks, seeing you in pains and all kinds of ills.

This is a micropost so bear with me! Feeling so dramatic, being so emphatic I lay beside my lover, ever so tender The cold winds blow us and everything under Relishing a moment so sweet, memories evergreen.

to think you showed up right after I stopped searching. to think I thought that seeing you will silence the millions of butterflies in my tummy. there is something about strength and independence when

Just fr fun😀 and true that.!

True that.!

En un árbol vivía una paloma triste en el nido de un búho. La paloma sólo podía volar hasta el suelo. Picoteaba y regresaba al nido. No debía ir más lejos. Aun así, agradecía al búho por no habérsela comido.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, she wanted to screem out loud with all the strength she had , but ended up keeping everything inside.

3:15 am. We rest on the floor of your loggia for there’s no place for two chairs, just one. The notion of space interests me, I relates you, and you move your head. You previously know. It’s one of the

We often give up on ourselves,on lives.We lose hope and shatter into tiny pieces of smoke, into nothingness.But it's us, who believe, who die yet live, who carry magic in our hearts! Yet we're all devils,we're

fuente En un día lluvioso probé mi suerte al intentarlo otra vez. No la conozco, no me conoce. Tres segundos fue lo que necesite para caminar hacia ella, si no lo hacía me arrepentiría. Al frente de ella