Monica Figueroa · Mar 31, 2010  You can't reach me. We don't
even exist on the same level. If you believed half the things I
did You'd be making out with a loaded weapon before You could
even begin to understand. Your a constant, fruitless chase. An
empty promise. A futile attempt of darker forces to upset the
current balance. Your an illusion and a ghost. In the end; you
were everything yet you were nothing. God, Fate and Destiny have
nothing to do with it. You are just the creation of a fragile
ego and a wanton heart.  Copyright 2010 Monica Figueroa Log in
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