When you go on, you will find me so lost that I won’t be able to separate me from the incredulity. When you go on, from all of the scenes of my life it will only remain the good parts and the ones where we’re holding hands. Somebody wanted me, somebody cared, and somebody understood me without asking for any explanation. When you go on, you’ll leave me confused with the forgiveness you’ll never recognize.

When you go on, silence will take place where before had a garden where we swore we would always be happy. Tell me then, who will take care of the homeless flowers of the endless cold season that we let come in here and freeze all of them?

(texto passado para inglês por lorelontra)