Heart Issues After Anorexia

an Extinguishing agent midst In Our

non sai cosa voglia dire respirare a malapena ancora ferire i giorni sbagliati e inventarsi un nuovo contorno alle ombre che non ci sono più diradarsi senza accorgersene avere magari un po' di tempo per assecondare l'impressione di correggersi in fondo per poi tornare nudi commestibili diventano le piccole voglie e tutte le nostre licenze l' ingratitudine dello sporco inaugurare questi nuovi giorni almeno un po' apostrofare domande sospendersi la tua bocca che diventa cenere con me le trasparenze rotte head under the clothes with a fever and the inevitable rough caresses the rust of them the hours you are really little more and more tired your voice calling me from far away I am about to invent the silence shell out in the framework that we shows naked and then give us a kiss without a resurgence of the mirror as if it were electric tree envy real space and still losing blood that no longer exists in Eclipse Order is made not remember the meaning between us without even knowing when it happened (even without allowing for pleasantly moist evasion) I shell out inventive mind the silence as tracing the distance between us and our justification carefully hidden in a scream now clean white

What Is The Best Workout Supplement

"for a season"

the sun goes home early while the wall blush and the flowers remain on the ground. You wanted to kill a god for color verdefalso spring that has no blood. in half a day off so as not to see. you stop being a god but then does not contradict the dreams faded as people return. convince yourself that the stories end before you start. unstitched edge of things in the rain brings you back to lisbon . but not enough to keep the autumn liar. where they denied the revelations that come back as clouds Catholic. so life will not take you dead and bound in the face. inotropic afternoons. and then compel god to be a coward future. while prudence is damp, dark home. geography of the flight down with us. amniotic afternoons. with despair sweat elegant. buy smiles dangerous but do not know why. the steady hand and clear in front of the mouth. your eyes under the orange glow of the alarm stay hot. and steeply lower. they call phosphenes best of my hands. Thoughts clothes. "Invernobrillante the dead" and other "gifts burned." thirsty plugs into syllables. eversions the naked eye between devices. when we look, but still. and as long as you let go. an entire week on the verge of vomiting. maybe you can heal but when it's just a god. for a season presumably conscious . unbounded in a window. for one reason

Playing With Sisters Boobs

certain nights to let the wounds dry and warm even in other keep the blood

"I know your eyes deep without a bottom. full of stones like coins in a fountain. those hoping to return people. you did not return anyone."

("where he at," "Once Again A Fond Farewell")

Difference Between Arterial And Venous Leg Ulcers

"I planted dei fiori qui, per te"

there are whole days lying on your eyes. on my hands dirty. our word for tired. the strange season that also take our thirst. later that day in your bare feet in October have shortened the distance of my forgiveness. Your momentum is building you build new houses and new schools colors. inside me. last winter was to be hot. bare hands as that Sunday when the legs gave way. words exceeded low pharmacy. We died a thousand times. as the park then I also yellowed. I was wrapped in your blanket close. I was dead in your haste. seasons rusty always better to talk. always trying to dig into a bright red. the exile of our compassion militants. that expectations are also convinced of shit. Whole chapters have fallen in one day. days saved. other burning whole to consume all the heat. the difference in a dream and your predictions dense. my swarm. my silence over for you. when I lose your love blacks and collected. when you enter a phrase in an obscene and furnishings of the new beliefs. we are dead in the gray sand of the demolitions. when I think of your clothes sorted and colored my voice. an answer when I dream about a long line. the only living person in that room with the sea. days away on your eyes. provinces as inappropriate for your car from the city. away amezzapensione skies. with a finger. and then all the voices that seemed full of lead. off all your cities. the new songs I'm also a bit warm and 'asshole. as you told me. I caress the ice pretending afternoon migraine. I stay at night. but does not change the name. down empty rooms and wet books. salt and snow down to stay in balance. and then rewrite the entire la pubblicità nervosa dei miei sbagli. risparmio spazio alla nostra religione edulcorata ma non mi fa sentire meglio. giorni sommersi senza una destinazione . mi è rimasto solo un pezzo opaco di te che non mi basta più. piccole assunzioni che ti rendono partecipe di un giorno sociale. intanto io parlo di altri suicidi più o meno consapevoli. le mie figure di merda dopo due minuti che parlavamo. e poi mi ubriaco la seconda volta riuscendo solo a non farti parlare troppo. poi rimango muto io quando tu mi guardavi da lontano. malattie assordanti che scendono dai tuoi timidi ritardi. pieno di consapevolezza resisto. c'è un po' di disordine e deserto grigio. c'è un po' di digestione e fughe senza discolpe. altre onde reduci dal mondo. altre passioni equiparate a quelle dei giorni passanti. persone nude e quelle spogliate. il tuo sorriso che sembra un vestito leggero. ma non riesce a rincuorarmi. muri e mari di gomma. baci di stoffa e derisioni. "qui, dove non c'è ombra"