wounds [Theme] Page 28

We hurt and we hurt. The only way we get to know each other. And that is how we come to know ourselves.

Look - stop! Can you hear me?!
Look - stop! It looks you in the eye.
You stop!.. Naive careless child
Far forgotten place,
It will never leave you,
It is cleaner than the air snow and water.
It is never you don't let go
With the years adding sadness,
But the child doesn't know about first love
A first love is like first blood.
One that often words hurt, but time heals wounds,
Only leaves scars forever.
And the child does not know what war is,
And war is tears, blood and trouble
And no one wants war,
But the only bullets in children get.

Some of the wounds received in childhood, not heal ever. They are forgotten for some time, allowing us to grow and Mature in order to come back later and just painful to remind myself.

Tightens the wound, although not free us from the scars.

Man consumed by thought of revenge, does not heal his wounds, which otherwise would have long since healed and healed.
(The one who plots revenge, irritate his wounds, which otherwise would have long since healed and healed.)

When our wounds heal, your steps became the music, your voice seemed to me song. We walked along the Nevsky, holding hands, and it was our challenge. We were not afraid to reprove the world of ugliness, was not afraid to give him a slap in its appearance, its brightness and unpredictability. And it was possible for us.

You know what happens to people when you hurt them? When you hurt them, they begin to love you less. That's what leads unthinking word. To the fact that people are starting to love you a little less.

We were so excited about the beauty of the wounds that he forgot about the pain. We, as bewitched, looked at the drop, like buds of roses, the ragged red edge, and the tears ran down our cheeks, and we all tore and tore our bodies and souls. Took out each other's hearts and put them in Golden trays that red gold has helped to recall the sunset in the desert, in the valley of the pharaohs... red gold...
Before the eyes of all floated... only you... And the crowd shouted, "Go!!! Come on!!!" They didn't know it was rape, the fight, which seemed like a bad dream, actually gives us the wild fun... we knew We found each other. We knew we found something real and true...

I would once again become a little girl! To laugh at any pain... What have I changed?
(I want to be a girl again: laughing at injuries, not maddening under them.)

I was unaware that it is possible to cause the man such a deep wound, after which nothing returned, not better. Sometimes, only one of its existence.

To erase, to forget the promises spit out the poison with the taste of betrayal. How many days and nights you will need this time to heal?

The deepest heart wounds heal better alone. Any friend, any close person was only able to stick to them a piece of adhesive tape, not more.

How could you, how could you, how could you hate me?
When all I ever wanted to be was you?
How could you, how could you, how could you love me?
When all you ever gave me were open wounds?
How could you, how could you, how can you hate me?
When all I wanted was that you?
How could you, how could you, how could you love me?
When all you ever gave me were open wounds?

Emotional wounds are invisible, but they never close; always painful, always bloody, they always remain open in the depths of the human soul.