Bullets and lipsticks.

It´s midday, probably midnight it has to be midnight because the last time you were out it was getting dark and it´s half past eleven. You don't have a watch but you know it because you are always thinking about  time and your instinct has always been so good, so you never had to buy a watch, your mother bought you one, it was red with a white sphere and silver numbers with ornaments of flowers, and your brother gave you another too, but it was from your grandfather,so balded and with erased numbers, but it brings you a lot of memories when you see it although you haven´t used it yet.

You extend your hand to the mirrow, looking at your own eyes and saying ¿Why are you here? ¿What have you done during all this time? and nobody says nothing and the echo created between the nearby and white walls laughs at you  (the colour white in walls it has nothing to do with echo but that white colour it´s so strange, not the same that you have seen all the times that you went into the bathroom)

You feel fine, in that place where nobody can see you except yourself and you are glad of not having any answers, because if it had been otherwise now you would be death and you prefer questions, questions that invite you to create a new world inside yourself, because you´ve never said nothing, you´ve never shown the other side, the world that you created. The only thing that matters is that you are the only one who knows your secret, who keep it alive. And you´re sure you´ll take it to the flames and you´ll burn with it.

You look at your rightside and see if the door is locked.

There´s nobody here at the moment but they´ll be coming soon. Your legs are shaking and you try to cry but  there´s a bad thing I have to say you about tears, one thing that I said you so many times: they never come when you are expectant just when you don´t wait for them. You can't stop thinking about time and what will happen, trying to imagine exactly what will be happening in ten minutes, half hour or maybe two hours or never...
They´ll entry in the apartment and will start moving around, looking for you in all the rooms except where you are, they´ll shake the bed when you used to make love, but he is not here now, he has never been there, maybe he is with them, maybe he dissapeared... you don´t know. The only thing you´ve got now it´s the broken mirror that you´ve never tried to repair because you didn´t care about it, there were more important things to do like loving or living but now that mirror is the only thing you have.
I was saying that he isn´t there with you and you know how it goes. Here love is the backdoor from hell but behind it there is nothing, you can´t escape and you´ll be back anytime, it doesn´t matter how long you are waiting, most of the times the waiting is worse than the end. And you´ve been waiting so long for this day for the end of suffering, you can´t wait more.
But it´s hard, it´s hard to forget why you are there, the reason why everything that should be in your mind now it´s not there. But Wait a minute, maybe the reason is that is as easy to forget why you are here as don´t forgive to the people who hurt you once there are no reasons to forgive someone whose damages are now imposible to repair and now you are the victim.
You take a look to your blonde hair and see that there are some white hairs, the time must be coming, your body it´s trying to mature before time why ? You don´t want that, you´ve always been pretty and desired is a shame to look like that now or maybe the mirror it´s trying to judge you ?. Take off your clothes, catch your gun see again that there are no bullets what are you gonna do now ? it seems that there´s no scape there´s only one thing that you can do, write a message to him, express what you feel in that message for him... open yourself to the others, let them see what´s growing up inside you and you want to stop because it´s time for them to see it. Come on ignore the knocks from the door, they are now here but who cares ? you have known this for a long time ignore it, ignore it... just write, write everything or what you had time for and wish that he will see it before they come take your lipsticks and write it on the mirror because they are coming, they come, they are coming, they came...

"FUCK YOU"