My name is Pussy Galore

Maybe tomorrow your heart will be still beating for me, while your mind tries to chill your eagerness to love me. Maybe for just one second, you can forget about my existence, about I’m still there inside your chest, just beating and warming your cold body with memories, with my smile, my gestures, my caring words and whispers in your ear. Maybe in a few years, when you feel alone, you will realize that I’m gone, forever…

People, “friends”, “lovers”, they use you, they throw you away like a piece of paper, and life goes on (in the same direction ALWAYS). I really don’t know how to call this, maybe I’m a fool, maybe I’m too kind-hearted, maybe I’m a social kamikaze… It’s a feeling of loneliness, of emptiness… It’s like you had to fight a battle inside you almost every day and, after that, you only got a bunch of dead illusions, a few broken dreams and your ego bleeding and lying on the ground crying for justice. Meanwhile, your mind is frozen, watching in slow motion every memory, every picture, every moment… and trying to figure out why the hell is everything happening the same way again. And there you are, without knowing how to react to calm the pain of that bullet passing through your heart with point of entry and no exit.

Te mentiría si te digo que viviré feliz: hace tiempo mi alma se endureció como el cemento, y ahora sólo quedan escombros donde antes hubo una fortaleza de piedras y acero; te mentiría si te digo que no quiero ser parte de ti: sabes que me haces suspirar y palidecer, versar y divagar; te mentiría si te digo que no extraño tus llamadas y tu voz; te mentiría si te digo que no me causas la misma emoción que al principio; y lo más importante, te mentiría si te digo que en algún momento dejé de amarte.