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Bazaar of wishes that have not yet been cherished by anyone.
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You spent a lifetime seeking to compensate for, balance. By examining every thought, all negative thread, slicing through it from beginning to end, thoroughly.

You detenías at each step, renewing all defective in your mind, carefully replacing it with positive feelings. Correcting you, correcting the world, tirelessly. Imaginary situations, distorted memories. You become a true lie.

The years passed and you do not desististe. You commiserate in a way. I'd like to believe that it's not late yet, afternoon to ask to leave your search. Such it is that gives shape to everything you crave to deceive.

It terrifies me to know that I've developed there, within you.