Mentiras

I think I lie because I speak through emotion. I know the real, but it changes when spice is added. I see a hair with a slight tip of grey, but i call it un pelito perdido entre los otros, 28 years of missing, loving, hurting and then hurting, loving, and missing. It's a final fall leaf about to be plucked. One million songs through my head and 500+ beers in the night...memories...deja vu...daydreams...But it's not that...it is a single hair with a tip of grey.

Here's something new

I blame
icicles
falling
freeing
heart ideas
mind feelings