Chururún.

You sent Death to me, but she hasn't come to pick me up yet. Thousand times you have cursed my name and I had beared it thanks to my funny spells. Now I am tired, lovely witch, fed up with your silent words and coarse disdains. You said you'd send me to hell and I'm still waiting to see your face (I hope you'll have the decency to cast your magic in front of me). Are you going to come soon? I can't be here forever (forever lasts so little), I can't call for you for so many days. Please, come and tear apart my body, end this painless misery. She, your friend, is too contemptous. Sometimes we hang around and have fun, but others I just don't want to be with her, she is a disruption to all dichotomies and I love contradictions. Don't you? Please, come, I want to be with you. Come to me! Or disappear, make your presence vanish from all the particles that surround this empty space. You can't keep your promises, can you? Drag me to the house you have in Antarctica, stop all this shit, all these lies, all this hypocrisy. Ya me fastidié.