when they kick at your front door, how are you gonna come: with the hands on your head or on the trigger of your gun?
lunes, 6 de diciembre de 2010
I can't help doing it. It's like God's fingers move my mouth every time I read or hear you. The sight of you makes me doubt for a while, but afterwards, I gain the confidence created by words and laughter. I can't help but smile when I see a smile.
I feel afraid and stupid at times (fuck, already?), but I want to keep on smiling and I will; and I won't be the only one, beat that.